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BOSWELL'S  LIFE  OF  JOHNSON 


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BOSWELL'S 

LIFE    OF    JOHNSON 

EDITED   BY 

AUGUSTINE     BlilRELL 

IN      SIX      VOLUMES 
VOL.      V 


ARCHIBALD  CONSTABLE  AND  CO 
1896 


^ 


UX 


College 
Library 

PR 

v,5 

THE    LIFE    OF 
SAMUEL   JOHNSON,   LL.D. 

April  17,  being  Good  Friday,  I  waited  on  Johnson, 
as  usual.  I  observed  at  breakfast  that  although  it 
was  a  part'  of  his  abstemious  discipline  on  this  most 
solemn  fast  to  take  no  milk  in  his  tea,  yet  when  Mrs. 
Desmoulins  inadvertently  poured  it  in,  he  did  not 
reject  it.  I  talked  of  the  strange  indecision  of  mind, 
and  imbecility  in  the  common  occurrences  of  life, 
which  we  may  observe  in  some  people.  Johnson  : 
'  Why,  sir,  I  am  in  the  habit  of  getting  others  to  do- 
things  for  me.'  Boswell  :  '  What,  sir,  have  you  that, 
weakness  .-^ '  Johnson  :  '  Yes,  sir.  But  I  always  think 
afterwards  I  should  have  done  better  for  myself.' 

I  told  him  that  at  a  gentleman's  house  where  there 
was  thought  to  be  such  extravagance  or  bad  manage- 
ment, that  he  was  living  much  beyond  his  income,  his 
lady  had  objected  to  the  cutting  of  a  pickled  mango, 
and  that  I  had  taken  an  opportunity  to  ask  the  price 
of  it,  and  found  that  it  was  only  two  shillings ;  so  here 
was  a  very  poor  saving.  Johnson  :  '  Sir,  that  is  the 
blundering  economy  of  a  narrow  understanding.  It 
is  stopping  one  hole  in  a  sieve.' 

I  expressed  some  inclination  to  publish  an  account 

VOL.   V.  A 


2  LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1778 

of  my  travels  upon  the  continent  of  Europe,  for  which 
I  had  a  variety  of  materials  collected.  Johnson  :  '  I 
do  not  say,  sir,  you  may  not  publish  your  travels  :  but 
I  give  you  my  opinion,  that  you  would  lessen  yourself 
by  it.  ^VTiat  can  you  tell  of  countries  so  well  known 
as  those  upon  the  continent  of  Europe,  which  you 
have  visited  .'' '  Boswell  :  *  But  I  can  give  an  enter- 
taining narrative,  with  many  incidents,  anecdotes, 
jeux  d' esprit,  and  remarks,  so  as  to  make  very  plea- 
sant reading .''  *  Johnson  :  'Why,  sir,  most  modern 
travellers  in  Europe  who  have  published  their  travels 
have  been  laughed  at :  I  would  not  have  you  added 
to  the  number.^  The  world  is  not  now  contented  to 
be  merely  entertained  by  a  traveller's  narrative  ;  they 
want  to  learn  something.  Now  some  of  my  friends 
asked  me  why  I  did  not  give  some  account  of  my  travels 
in  France.  The  reason  is  plain ;  intelligent  readers 
had  seen  more  of  France  than  I  had.  You  might  have 
liked  my  travels  in  France,  and  the  Club  might  have 
liked  them ;  but,  upon  the  whole,  there  would  have 
been  more  ridicule  than  good  produced  by  them.' 
Boswell  :  '  I  cannot  agree  with  you,  sir.  People 
would  like  to  read  what  you  say  of  anything.  Sup- 
pose a  face  has  been  painted  by  fifty  painters  before, 
still  we  love  to  see  it  done  by  Sir  Joshua.'  Johnson  : 
*^True,  sir,  but  Sir  Joshua  cannot  paint  a  face  when 
he  has  not  time  to  look  on  it.'  Boswell  :  '  Sir,  a 
sketch  of  any  sort  by  him  is  valuable.  And,  sir,  to 
talk  to  you  in  your  own  style  (raising  my  voice,  and 
shaking  my  head),  you  should  have  given  us  your 


1  I  believe,  however,  I  shall  follow  my  own  opinion  j  for  the  world 
has  shown  a  very  flattering  partiality  to  my  writings  on  many 
occasions. 


MT.69]    LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON  3 

travels  in  France.     I  am  sure  I  am  right,  and  there's 
an  end  on't.' 

I  said  to  him  that  it  was  certainly  true,  as  my  friend 
Dempster  had  observed  in  his  letter  to  me  upon  the 
subject,  that  a  great  part  of  what  was  in  his  Journey 
to  the  Western  Islands  of  Scotland,  had  been  in  his 
mind  before  he  left  London.  Johnson:  'Why  yes, 
sir,  the  topics  were  ;  and  books  of  travel  will  be  good 
in  proportion  to  what  a  man  has  previously  in  his 
mind  ;  his  knowing  what  to  observe ;  his  power  of 
contrasting  one  mode  of  life  with  another.  As  the 
Spanish  proverb  says,  "  He  who  would  bring  home  the 
wealth  of  the  Indies,  must  carry  the  wealth  of  the 
Indies  with  him."  So  it  is  in  travelling ;  a  man  must 
carry  knowledge  with  him  if  he  would  bring  home 
knowledge.'  Bos  well:  'The  proverb,  I  suppose,  sir, 
means  he  must  carry  a  large  stock  with  him  to  trade 
with.'     Johnson  :  *  Yes,  sir.' 

It  was  a  delightful  day.  As  we  walked  to  St.  Cle- 
ment's Church,  I  again  remarked  that  Fleet  Street  was 
the  most  cheerful  scene  in  the  world.  '  Fleet  Street 
(said  I),  is  in  my  mind  more  delightful  than  Tempe.' 
Johnson  :  '  Ay,  sir,  but  let  it  be  compared  with 
Mull.' 

There  was  a  very  numerous  congregation  to-day  at 
St  Clement's  Church,  which  Dr.  Johnson  said  he 
observed  with  pleasure. 

And  now  I  am  to  give  a  pretty  full  account  of  one 
of  the  most  curious  incidents  in  Johnson's  life,  of 
which  he  himself  has  made  the  following  minute  on 
this  day  : 

'  In  my  return  from  church,  I  was  accosted  by  Edwards,  an 
old  fellow-collegian,  who  had  not  seen  me  since  1729.    He 


4  LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1778 

knew  me,  and  asked  if  I  remembered  one  Edwards ;  I  did  not 
at  first  recollect  the  name,  but  gradually,  as  we  walked  along, 
recovered  it,  and  told  him  a  conversation  that  had  passed  at 
an  alehouse  between  us.  My  pvirpose  is  to  continue  our  ac- 
quaintance.' ^ 

It  was  in  Butcher  Row  that  this  meeting  happened. 
Mr.  Edwards,  who  was  a  decent-looking,  elderly  man 
in  grey  clothes,  and  a  wig  of  many  curls,  accosted 
Johnson  with  familiar  confidence,  knowing  who  he 
was,  while  Johnson  returned  his  salutation  with  a 
courteous  formality,  as  to  a  stranger.  But  as  soon  as 
Edwards  had  brought  to  his  recollection  their  having 
been  at  Pembroke  College  together  nine-and-forty 
years  ago,  he  seemed  much  pleased,  asked  where  he 
lived,  and  said  he  should  be  glad  to  see  him  at  Bolt 
Court.  Edwards  :  '  Ah,  sir !  we  are  old  men  now.' 
Johnson  (who  never  liked  to  think  of  being  old): 
'  Don't  let  us  discourage  one  another, '  Edwards  : 
*  Why,  Doctor,  you  look  stout  and  hearty,  I  am  happy 
to  see  you  so ;  for  the  newspapers  told  us  you  were 
very  ill.'  Johnson  :  *  Ah,  sir,  they  are  always  telling 
lies  oius  old  fellows' 

Wishing  to  be  present  at  more  of  so  singular  a  con- 
versation as  that  between  two  fellow-collegians  who 
had  lived  forty  years  in  London  without  ever  having 
chanced  to  meet,  I  whispered  to  Mr.  Edwards  that 
Dr.  Johnson  was  going  home,  and  that  he  had  better 
accompany  him  now.  So  Edwards  walked  along  with 
us,  I  eagerly  assisting  to  keep  up  the  conversation. 
Mr.  Edwards  informed  Dr.  Johnson  that  he  had 
practised  long  as  a  solicitor  in  Chancery,  but  that  he 


i  Prayers  and  Meditations,  p.  164. 


;et.  69]    LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON  6 

now  lived  in  the  country  upon  a  little  farm,  about 
sixty  acres,  just  by  Stevenage  in  Hertfordshire,  and 
that  he  came  to  London  (to  Barnard's  Inn,  No.  6) 
generally  twice  a  week.  Johnson  appearing  to  me  in 
a  reverie,  Mr.  Edwards  addressed  himself  to  me,  and 
expatiated  on  the  pleasure  of  living  in  the  country. 
BoswELL :  '  I  have  no  notion  of  this,  sir.  What  you 
have  to  entertain  you  is,  I  think,  exhausted  in  half 
an  hour. '  Edwards  :  '  What !  don't  you  love  to  have 
hope  realised .''  I  see  my  grass,  and  my  corn,  and  my 
trees  growing.  Now,  for  instance,  I  am  curious  to 
see  if  this  frost  has  not  nipped  my  fruit-trees.* 
Johnson  (who  we  did  not  imagine  was  attending): 
'  You  find,  sir,  you  have  fears  as  well  as  hopes.'  So 
well  did  he  see  the  whole,  when  another  saw  but  the 
half  of  a  subject. 

When  we  got  to  Dr.  Johnson's  house  and  were 
seated  in  his  library,  the  dialogue  went  on  admirably. 
Edwards  :  '  Sir,  I  remember  you  would  not  let  us  say 
prodigious  at  College.  For  even  then,  sir  (turning  to 
me),  he  was  delicate  in  language,  and  we  all  feared 
him.'^  Johnson  (to  Edwards):  'From  your  having 
practised  the  law  long,  sir,  I  presume  you  must  be 
rich.'  Edwards:  'No,  sir;  I  got  a  good  deal  of 
money,  but  I  had  a  number  of  poor  relations  to  whom 
I  gave  great  part  of  it.'  Johnson:  'Sir,  you  have 
been  rich  in  the  most  valuable  sense  of  the  word.' 
Edwards:  'But  I  shall  not  die  rich.'  Johnson: 
*  Nay,  sure,  sir,  it  is  better  to  live  rich  than  to  die  rich.* 
Edwards  :    '  I  wish  I    had    continued    at    College.* 


J  Johnson  said  to  me  afterwards,  'Sir,  they  respected  me  for  litera- 
ture ;  and  yet  it  was  not  great  but  by  comparison.  Sir,  it  is  amazing 
how  little  literature  there  is  in  the  world.' 


6  LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON        [1778 

Johnson  :  '  Why  do  you  wish  that,  sir  ? '  Edwards  : 
'  Because  I  think  I  should  have  had  a  much  easier  life 
than  mine  has  been.  I  should  have  been  a  parson  and 
had  a  good  living  like  Bloxham  and  several  others, 
and  lived  comfortably.'  Johnson:  'Sir,  the  life  of  a 
parson,  of  a  conscientious  clergyman,  is  not  easy.  I 
have  always  considered  a  clergyman  as  the  father  of  a 
larger  family  than  he  is  able  to  maintain.  I  would 
rather  have  Chancery  suits  upon  my  hands  than  the 
cure  of  souls.  No,  sir,  I  do  not  envy  a  clergyman's 
life  as  an  easy  life,  nor  do  I  envy  the  clergyman  who 
makes  it  an  easy  life.'  Here  taking  himself  up  all  of 
a  sudden,  he  exclaimed,  '  O  !  Mr.  Edwards !  I  '11  con- 
vince you  that  I  recollect  you.  Do  you  remember  our 
drinking  together  at  an  alehouse  near  Pembroke  Gate.'* 
At  that  time,  you  told  me  of  the  Eton  boy,  who,  when 
verses  on  our  Saviour's  turning  water  into  wine  were 
prescribed  as  an  exercise,  brought  up  a  single  line, 
which  was  highly  admired  : 

' "  Vidit  et  erubuit  lympha  pudica  Deum."i 

And  I  told  you  of  another  fine  line  in  Camden's 


1  [This  line  has  frequently  been  attributed  to  Dryden,  when  a  King's 
Scholar  at  Westminster.  But  neither  Eton  nor  Westminster  have  in 
truth  any  claim  to  it,  the  line  being  borrowed,  with  a  slight  change  (as 
Mr.  Bindley  has  observed  to  me),  from  an  epigram  by  Crashaw,  which 
was  published  in  his  Epigrammata  Sacra,  first  printed  at  Cambridge 
without  the  author's  name,  in  1634,  8vo.  The  original  is  much  more 
elegant  than  the  copy,  the  water  being  personified,  and  the  word  on 
which  the  point  of  the  epigram  turns,  being  reserved  to  the  close  of 
the  line : 

'  JoANN.  ii. — Aqua  in  vinuvt  versa. 

*Unde  rubor  vestris  et  non  sua  purpura  lymphist 
Quae  rosa  mirantes  tam  nova  mutat  aquas? 
Numen,  convivse,  prsesens  agnoscite  numen, 
Nympha  pudica  Deum  vidit,  et  erubuit.' — M.} 


iET.  69]     LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  7 

Remains,  a  eulogy  upon  one  of  our  kings,  who  was 
succeeded  by  his  son,  a  prince  of  equal  merit  : 

'  "Mira  cano,  Sol  occubuit,  nox  nulla  secuta  est." ' 

Edwards  :  '  You  are  a  philosopher.  Dr.  Johnson. 
I  have  tried  too  in  my  time  to  be  a  philosopher ;  but 
I  don't  know  how,  cheerfulness  was  always  breaking 
in.'  Mr.  Burke,  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  Mr.  Courtenay, 
Mr.  Malone,  and,  indeed,  all  the  eminent  men  to  whom 
I  have  mentioned  this,  have  thought  it  an  exquisite 
trait  of  character.  The  truth  is,  that  philosophy,  like 
religion,  is  too  generally  supposed  to  be  hard  and 
severe,  at  least  so  grave  as  to  exclude  all  gaiety. 

Edwards  :  '  I  have  been  twice  married.  Doctor. 
You,  I  suppose,  have  never  known  what  it  was  to  have 
a  wife.'  Johnson  :  '  Sir,  I  have  known  what  it  was  to 
have  a  wife,  and  (in  a  solemn,  tender,  faltering  tone) 
I  have  known  what  it  was  to  hse  a  wife.  It  had 
almost  broke  my  heart' 

Edwards  :  '  How  do  you  live,  sir  ?  For  my  part, 
I  must  have  my  regular  meals,  and  a  glass  of  good 
wine.  I  find  I  require  it.'  Johnson  :  'I  now  drink  no 
wine,  sir.  Early  in  life  I  drank  wine  :  for  many  years 
I  drank  none.  I  then  for  some  years  drank  a  great 
deal.'  Edwards:  'Some  hogsheads,  I  warrant  you.' 
Johnson  :  *  I  then  had  a  severe  illness,  and  left  it  off, 
and  I  have  never  begun  it  again.  I  never  felt  any 
difference  upon  myself  from  eating  one  thing  rather 
than  another,  nor  from  one  kind  of  weather  rather 
than  another.  There  are  people,  I  believe,  who  feel  a 
difference ;  but  I  am  not  one  of  them.  And  as  to 
regular  meals,  I  have  fasted  from  the  Sunday's 
dinner  to  the  Tuesday's  dinner  without  any  incon- 


8  LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1778 

venience.  I  believe  it  is  best  to  eat  just  as  one  is 
hungry ;  but  a  man  who  is  in  business,  or  a  man  who 
has  a  family,  must  have  stated  meals.  I  am  a  straggler. 
I  may  leave  this  town  and  go  to  Grand  Cairo,  without 
being  missed  here  or  observed  there.'  Edwards  : 
'Don't  you  eat  supper,  sir?'  Johnson:  'No,  sir.' 
Edwabds  :  '  For  my  part,  now,  I  consider  supper  as 
a  turnpike  through  which  one  must  pass  in  order  to 
get  to  bed.'i 

Johnson  :  '  You  are  a  lawyer,  Mr.  Edwards. 
Lawyers  know  life  practically.  A  bookish  man  should 
always  have  them  to  converse  with.  They  have  what 
he  wants.'  Edwards  :  'I  am  grown  old  :  I  am  sixty- 
five.'  Johnson  :  '  I  shall  be  sixty-nine  next  birthday. 
Come,  sir,  drink  water,  and  put  in  for  a  hundred.' 

Mr.  Edwards  mentioned  a  gentleman  who  had  left 
his  whole  fortune  to  Pembroke  College.  Johnson  : 
'Whether  to  leave  one's  whole  fortune  to  a  college 
be  right,  must  depend  upon  circumstances.  I  would 
leave  the  interest  of  a  fortune  I  bequeathed  to  a 
college  to  my  relations  or  my  friends  for  their  lives. 
It  is  the  same  thing  to  a  college,  which  is  a  permanent 
society,  whether  it  gets  the  money  now  or  twenty 
years  hence  ;  and  I  would  wish  to  make  my  relations 
or  friends  feel  the  benefit  of  it.' 

This  interview  confirmed  my  opinion  of  Johnson's 
most  humane  and  benevolent  heart.  His  cordial  and 
placid  behaviour  to  an  old  fellow-collegian,  a  man  so 
different  from  himself;  and  his  telling  him  that  he 
would  go  down  to  his  farm  and  visit  him,  showed  a 
kindness  of  disposition  very  rare  at  an  advanced  age. 

1  I  am  not  absolutely  sure  but  this  was  my  own  suggestion,  though  it 
is  truly  in  the  character  of  Edwards. 


.ET.  69]     LIFE    OF    DR    JOHNSON  9 

He  observed  'how  wonderful  it  was  that  they  had 
both  been  in  London  forty  years  without  having  ever 
once  met,  and  both  walkers  in  the  street  too  ! '  Mr. 
Edwards,  when  going  away,  again  recurred  to  his  con- 
sciousness of  senility,  and  looking  full  in  Johnson's 
face,  said  to  him,  '  You  '11  find  in  Dr.  Young, 

'  "Oh  my  coevals  !  remnants  of  yourselves." ' 

Johnson  did  not  relish  this  at  all ;  but  shook  his  head 
with  impatience.  Edwards  walked  off  seemingly 
highly  pleased  with  the  honour  of  having  been  thus 
noticed  by  Dr.  Johnson.  When  he  was  gone  I  said 
to  Johnson  I  thought  him  but  a  weak  man.  Johnson: 
*Why  yes,  sir.  Here  is  a  man  who  has  passed 
through  life  without  experience :  yet  I  would  rather 
have  him  with  me  than  a  more  sensible  man  who  will 
not  talk  readily.  This  man  is  always  willing  to  say 
what  he  has  to  say.'  Yet  Dr.  Johnson  had  himself  by 
no  means  that  willingness  which  he  praised  so  much, 
and  I  think  so  justly  ;  for  who  has  not  felt  the  pain- 
ful effect  of  the  dreary  void,  when  there  is  a  total 
silence  in  a  company  for  any  length  of  time  ;  or, 
which  is  as  bad,  or  perhaps  worse,  when  the  conversa- 
tion is  with  difficulty  kept  up  by  a  perpetual  effort  ? 

Johnson  once  observed  to  me,  '  Tom  Tyers  described 
me  the  best :  **  Sir  (said  he),  you  are  like  a  ghost :  you 
never  speak  till  you  are  spoken  to." ' 

The  gentleman  whom  he  thus  familiarly  mentioned 
was  Mr.  Thomas  Tyers,  son  of  Mr.  Jonathan  Tyers, 
the  founder  of  that  excellent  place  of  public  amuse- 
ment, Vauxhall  Gardens,  which  must  ever  be  an 
estate  to  its  proprietor,  as  it  is  peculiarly  adapted 
to  the  taste  of  the   English   nation  ;   there  being  a 


10  LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON        [1778 

mixture  of  curious  show, — gay  exhibition, — music, 
vocal  and  instrumental,  not  too  refined  for  the 
general  ear ;  for  all  which  only  a  shilling  is  paid ;  ^ 
and,  though  last,  not  least,  good  eating  and  drinking 
for  those  who  choose  to  purchase  that  regale.  Mr. 
Thomas  Tyers  was  bred  to  the  law ;  but  having  a 
handsome  fortune,  vivacity  of  temper,  and  eccentricity 
of  mind,  he  could  not  confine  himself  to  the  regularity 
of  practice.  He  therefore  ran  about  the  world  with 
a  pleasant  carelessness,  amusing  everybody  by  hia 
desultory  conversation.  He  abounded  in  anecdote, 
but  was  not  sufficiently  attentive  to  accuracy.  I  there- 
fore cannot  venture  to  avail  myself  much  of  a  biogra- 
phical sketch  of  Johnson  which  he  published,  being 
one  among  the  various  persons  ambitious  of  appending 
their  names  to  that  of  my  illustrious  friend.  That 
sketch  is,  however,  an  entertaining  little  collection  of 
fragments.  Those  which  he  published  of  Pope  and 
Addison  are  of  higher  merit ;  but  his  fame  must 
chiefly  rest  upon  his  Political  Conferences,  in  which  he 
introduces  several  eminent  persons  delivering  their 
sentiments  in  the  way  of  dialogue,  and  discovers  a 
considerable  share  of  learning,  various  knowledge, 
and  discernment  of  character.  This  much  may  I  be 
allowed  to  say  of  a  man  who  was  exceedingly  obliging 
to  me,  and  who  lived  with  Dr.  Johnson  in  as  easy  a 
manner  as  almost  any  of  his  very  numerous  acquaint- 
ance. 

Mr.  Edwards  had  said  to  me  aside,  that  Dr.  Johnson 

*  In  summer  1792,  additional  and  more  expensive  decorations  having 
been  introduced,  the  price  of  admission  was  raised  to  2s.  I  cannot 
approve  of  this.  The  company  may  be  more  select  ;  but  a  number  of 
the  honest  commonalty  are,  I  fear,  excluded  from  sharing  in  elegant 
and  innocent  entertainment.  An  attempt  to  abolish  the  is.  gallery  at 
the  playhouse  has  been  very  properly  counteracted. 


;et.  69]    LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  11 

should  have  been  of  a  profession.  I  repeated  the 
remark  to  Johnson  that  I  might  have  his  own  thoughts 
on  the  subject  Johnson:  'Sir,  it  would  have  been 
better  that  I  had  been  of  a  profession.  I  ought  to 
have  been  a  lawyer.'  Boswell  :  'I  do  not  think,  sir, 
it  would  have  been  better,  for  we  should  not  have  had 
the  English  Dictionary. '  Johnson  :  '  But  you  would 
have  had  reports.'  Boswell:  'Ay  ;  but  there  would 
not  have  been  another  who  could  have  written  the 
Dictionary.  There  would  have  been  many  very  good 
judges.  Suppose  you  had  been  Lord  Chancellor,  you 
would  have  delivered  opinions  with  more  extent  of 
mind  and  in  a  more  ornamental  manner  than  perhaps 
any  Chancellor  ever  did,  or  ever  will  do.  But,  I 
believe,  causes  have  been  as  judiciously  decided  as  you 
could  have  done.'  Johnson:  'Yes, sir.  Property  has 
been  as  well  settled. ' 

Johnson,  however,  had  a  noble  ambition  floating  in 
his  mind,  and  had,  undoubtedly,  often  speculated  on 
the  possibility  of  his  supereminent  powers  being 
rewarded  in  this  great  and  liberal  country  by  the 
highest  honours  of  the  state.  Sir  William  Scott 
informs  me  that  upon  the  death  of  the  late  Lord  Lich- 
field, who  was  Chancellor  of  the  University  of  Oxford, 
he  said  to  Johnson,  '  What  a  pity  it  is,  sir,  that  you 
did  not  follow  the  profession  of  the  law.  You  might 
have  been  Lord  Chancellor  of  Great  Britain,  and 
attained  to  the  dignity  of  the  Peerage  ;  and  now  that 
the  title  of  Lichfield,  your  native  city,  is  extinct,  you 
might  have  had  it.'  Johnson  upon  this  seemed  much 
agitated,  and  in  an  angry  tone  exclaimed :  '  Why  will 
you  vex  me  by  suggesting  this,  when  it  is  too  late  ? ' 

But  he  did  not  repine  at  the  prosperity  of  others. 


12  LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1778 

The  late  Dr.  Thomas  Leland  told  Mr.  Courtenay  that 
when  Mr.  Edmund  Burke  showed  Johnson  his  fine 
house  and  lands  near  Beaconsfield,  Johnson  coolly 
said;  Non  equidem  invideo  ;  miror  magis.'  ^ 

Yet  no  man  had  a  higher  notion  of  the  dignity  of 
literature  than  Johnson,  or  was  more  determined  in 
maintaining  the  respect  which  he  justly  considered  as 
due  to  it.  Of  this,  besides  the  general  tenor  of  his 
conduct  in  society,  some  characteristical  instances 
may  be  mentioned. 

He  told  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  that  once  when  he 
dined  in  a  numerous  company  of  booksellers,  where, 
the  room  being  small,  the  head  of  the  table  at  which 
he  sat  was  almost  close  to  the  fire,  he  persevered  in 
suffering  a  great  deal  of  inconvenience  from  the  heat 
rather  than  quit  his  place,  and  let  one  of  them  sit 
above  him. 

Goldsmith  in  his  diverting  simplicity  complained 


■1 1  am  not  entirely  without  suspicion  that  Johnson  may  have  felt  a  little 
momentary  envy ;  for  no  man  loved  the  good  things  of  this  life  better 
than  he  did  ;  and  he  could  not  but  be  conscious  that  he  deserved  a 
much  larger  share  of  them  than  he  ever  had.  I  attempted  in  a  news- 
paper to  comment  on  the  above  passage  in  the  manner  of  Warburton, 
who  must  be  allowed  to  have  shown  uncommon  ingenuity,  in  giving  to 
any  author's  text  whatever  meaning  he  chose  it  should  carry.  As  this 
imitation  may  amuse  my  readers,  I  shall  here  introduce  it  : 

'  No  saying  of  Dr.  Johnson's  has  been  more  misunderstood  than  his 
applying  to  Mr.  Burke  when  he  first  saw  him  at  his  fine  place  at 
Beaconsfield,  Non  equidem  invideo;  miror  -magis.  These  two  cele- 
brated men  had  been  friends  for  many  years  before  Mr.  Burke  entered 
on  his  Parliamentary  career.  They  were  both  writers,  both  members  of 
the  Literary  Club  ;  when,  therefore,  Dr.  Johnson  saw  Mr.  Burke  in  a 
situation  so  much  mbre  splendid  than  that  to  which  he  himself  had 
attained,  he  did  not  mean  to  express  that  he  thought  it  a  dispro- 
portionate prosperity ;  but  while  he,  as  a  philosopher,  asserted  an 
exemption  from  envy,  non  eguidetn  invideo,  he  went  on  in  the  words 
of  the  poet,  miror  magis  :  thereby  signifying  either  that  he  was  occu- 
pied in  admiring  what  he  was  glad  to  see  ;  or,  perhaps,  that  consider- 
ing the  general  lot  of  men  of  superior  abilities,  he  wondered  that 
Fortune,  who  is  represented  as  blind,  should  in  this  instance  have  been 
so  just.' 


iET.  69]     LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  13 

one  day  in  a  mixed  company  of  Lord  Camden.  'I 
met  him  (said  he)  at  Lord  Clare's  house  in  the 
country,  and  he  took  no  more  notice  of  me  than  if  I 
had  been  an  ordinary  man.'  The  company  having 
laughed  heartily,  Johnson  stood  forth  in  defence  of 
his  friend.  '  Nay,  gentlemen  (said  he),  Dr.  Goldsmith 
is  in  the  right.  A  nobleman  ought  to  have  made  up 
to  such  a  man  as  Goldsmith  ;  and  I  think  it  is  much 
against  Lord  Camden  that  he  neglected  him.' 

Nor  could  he  patiently  endure  to  hear  that  such  re- 
spect as  he  thought  due  only  to  higher  intellectual 
qualities,  should  be  bestowed  on  men  of  slighter, 
though  perhaps  more  amusing,  talents.  I  told  him  that 
one  morning  when  I  went  to  breakfast  with  Garrick, 
who  was  very  vain  of  his  intimacy  with  Lord  Camden, 
he  accosted  me  thus  :  '  Pray  now,  did  you — did  you 
meet  a  little  lawyer  turning  the  corner,  eh .'' '  '  No,  sir 
(said  I).  Pray  what  do  you  mean  by  the  question  ? ' 
'  Why  (replied  Garrick,  with  an  aiFected  indifference, 
yet  as  if  standing  on  tip-toe).  Lord  Camden  has  this 
moment  left  me.  We  have  had  a  long  walk  together.* 
Johnson  :  '  Well,  sir,  Garrick  talked  very  properly. 
Lord  Camden  was  a  little  lawyer  to  be  associating  so 
familiarly  with  a  player.' . 

Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  observed  with  great  truth  that 
Johnson  considered  Garrick  to  be  as  it  were  his  pro-  , 
perty.     He  would  allow  no  man  either  to  blame  or  to 
praise  Garrick  in  his  presence  without  contradicting 
him. 

Having  fallen  into  a  very  serious  frame  of  mind,  in 
which  mutual  expressions  of  kindness  passed  between 
us,  such  as  would  be  thought  too  vain  in  me  to  repeat, 
I  talked  with  regret  of  the  sad,  inevitable  certainty 


14  LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1778 

that  one  of  us  must  survive  the  other.  Johnson  : 
*Yes,  sir,  that  is  an  affecting  consideration.  I  re- 
member Swift,  in  one  of  his  letters  to  Pope,  says, 
**  I  intend  to  come  over  that  we  may  meet  once  more ; 
and  when  we  must  part  it  is  what  happens  to  all 
human  beings." '  Boswell  :  *  The  hope  that  we  shall 
see  our  departed  friends  again  must  support  the  mind.' 
Johnson  :  '  Why  yes,  sir, '  Bosweix  :  '  There  is  a 
strange  unwillingness  to  part  with  life,  independent 
of  serious  fears  as  to  futurity.  A  reverend  friend  of 
ours  (naming  him)  tells  me  that  he  feels  an  uneasiness 
at  the  thoughts  of  leaving  his  house,  his  study,  his 

books.'  Johnson  :' This  is  foolish  in .   A  man  need 

not  be  uneasy  on  these  grounds  ;  for,  as  he  will  retain 
his  consciousness,  he  may  say  with  the  philosopher. 
Omnia  mea  mecum  porta.'  Boswell  : '  True,  sir,  we  may 
carry  our  books  in  our  heads ;  but  still  there  is  some- 
thing painful  in  the  thought  of  leaving  for  ever  what 
has  given  us  pleasure.  I  remember,  many  years  ago, 
when  my  imagination  was  warm,  and  I  happened  to  be 
in  a  melancholy  mood,  it  distressed  me  to  think  of 
going  into  a  state  of  being  in  which  Shakespeare's 
poetry  did  not  exist.  A  lady  whom  I  then  much 
admired,  a  very  amiable  woman,  humoured  my  fancy, 
and  relieved  me  by  saying,  "  The  first  thing  you  will 
meet  in  the  other  world  will  be  an  elegant  copy  of 
Shakespeare's  works  presented  to  you." '  Dr.  Johnson 
smiled  benignantly  at  this,  and  did  not  appear  to  dis- 
approve of  the  notion. 

We  went  to  St.  Clement's  Church  again  in  the  after- 
noon, and  then  returned  and  drank  tea  and  coffee  in 
Mrs.  Williams's  room,  Mrs.  Desmoulins  doing  the 
honours  of  the  tea-table.     I  observed  that  he  would 


iET.  69]    LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON  15 

not  even  look  at  a  proof-sheet  of  his  Life  of  Waller  on 
Good  Friday. 

Mr.  Allen,  the  printer,  brought  a  book  on  agricul- 
ture, which  was  printed  and  was  soon  to  be  published. 
It  was  a  very  strange  performance,  the  author  having 
mixed  in  it  his  own  thoughts  upon  various  topics, 
along  with  his  remarks  on  ploughing,  sowing,  and 
other  farming  operations.  He  seemed  to  be  an  absurd, 
profane  fellow,  and  had  introduced  in  his  book  many 
sneers  at  religion,  with  equal  ignorance  and  conceit 
Dr.  Johnson  permitted  me  to  read  some  passages 
aloud.  One  was  that  he  resolved  to  work  on  Sunday, 
and  did  work,  but  he  owned  he  felt  some  weak  com- 
punction ;  and  he  had  this  very  curious  reflection  : — 
'  I  was  born  in  the  wilds  of  Christianity,  and  the  briars 
and  thorns  still  hang  about  me. '  Dr.  Johnson  could 
not  help  laughing  at  this  ridiculous  image,  yet  was 
very  angry  at  the  fellow's  impiety.  '  However  (said 
he),  the  reviewers  will  make  him  hang  himself.'  He, 
however,  observed,  *  that  formerly  there  might  have 
been  a  dispensation  obtained  for  working  on  Sunday 
in  the  time  of  harvest.'  Indeed  in  ritual  observances, 
were  all  the  ministers  of  religion  what  they  should  be, 
and  what  many  of  them  are,  such  a  power  might  be 
wisely  and  safely  lodged  with  the  Church. 

On  Saturday,  April  18,  I  drank  tea  with  him.  He 
praised  the  late  Mr.  Duncombe  of  Canterbury  as  a 
pleasing  man.  '  He  used  to  come  to  me  ;  I  did  not 
seek  much  after  him.  Indeed  I  never  sought  much 
after  anybody.'  Bosweli.  :  'Lord  Orrery,  I  suppose.' 
Johnson  :  *  No,  sir ;  I  never  went  to  him  but  when 
he  sent  for  me.'  Boswell  :  '  Richardson  V  Johnson  : 
*  Yes,  sir.    But  I  sought  after  George  Psalmanazar  the 


16  LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1778 

most.  I  used  to  go  and  sit  with  him  at  an  alehouse 
in  the  city.' 

I  am  happy  to  mention  another  instance  which  I 
discovered  of  his  seeking  after  a  man  of  merit.  Soon 
after  the  Honourable  Daines  Barrington  had  published 
his  excellent  Observations  on  the  Statutes,  Johnson 
waited  on  that  worthy  and  learned  gentleman ;  and 
having  told  him  his  name^  courteously  said,  'I  have 
read  your  book,  sir,  with  great  pleasure,  and  wish  to 
he  better  known  to  you. '  Thus  began  an  acquaintance 
which  was  continued  with  mutual  regard  as  long  as 
Johnson  lived. 

Talking  of  a  recent  seditious  delinquent,^  he  said, 
'  They  should  set  him  in  the  pillory  that  he  may  be 
punished  in  a  way  that  would  disgrace  him.'  I 
observed,  that  the  pillory  does  not  always  disgrace. 
And  I  mentioned  the  instance  of  a  gentleman,*  who 
I  thought  was  not  dishonoured  by  it.  Johnson  :  ^Ay, 
but  he  was,  sir.  He  could  not  mouth  and  strut  as  he 
used  to  do  after  having  been  there.  People  are  not 
willing  to  ask  a  man  to  their  tables  who  has  stood  in 
the  pillory.' 

The  gentleman  who  had  dined  with  us  at  Dr.  Percy's 
came  in.  Johnson  attacked  the  Americans  with  in- 
temperate vehemence  of  abuse.  I  said  something  in 
their  favour ;  and  added  that  I  was  always  sorry  when 
he  talked  on  that  subject.  This,  it  seems,  exasperated 
him  ;  though  he  said  nothing  at  the  time.  The  cloud 
was  charged  with  sulphureous  vapour,  which  was  after- 
wards to  burst  in  thunder.  We  talked  of  a  gentleman 
who  was  running  out  his  fortune  in  London ;  and  I 

1  [Home  Tooke.— A.  B.] 

2  [Croker  thought  Dr.  Shehbeare  was  meant. — A.  B.] 


;et.  69]    LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON  17 

said,  *We  must  get  him  out  of  it.  All  his  friends 
must  quarrel  with  him,  and  that  will  soon  drive  him 
away.'  Johnson  :  'Nay,  sir,  we'll  send  you  to  him. 
If  your  company  does  not  drive  a  man  out  of  his 
house,  nothing  will.'  This  was  a  horrible  shock,  for 
which  there  was  no  visible  cause.  I  afterwards  asked 
him  why  he  had  said  so  harsh  a  thing.  Johnson  : 
'Because,  sir,  you  made  me  angry  about  the  Americans.' 
BoswELL :  '  But  why  did  you  not  take  your  revenge 
directly  ? '  Johnson  (smiling)  :  '  Because,  sir,  I  had 
nothing  ready.  A  man  cannot  strike  till  he  has 
weapons.'    This  was  a  candid  and  pleasant  confession. 

He  showed  me  to-night  his  drawing-room,  very 
genteelly  fitted  up ;  and  said,  '  Mrs.  Thrale  sneered 
when  I  talked  of  my  having  asked  you  and  your 
lady  to  live  at  my  house.  I  was  obliged  to  tell  her 
that  you  would  be  in  as  respectable  a  situation  in  my 
house  as  in  hers.  Sir,  the  insolence  of  wealth  will 
creep  out.'  Boswell:  'She  has  a  little  both  of  the 
insolence  of  wealth  and  the  conceit  of  parts.'  Johnson: 
'  The  insolence  of  wealth  is  a  wretched  thing ;  but  the 
conceit  of  parts  has  some  foundation.  To  be  sure  it 
should  not  be.  But  who  is  without  it  ? '  Boswell  : 
'Yourself,  sir.'  Johnson;  'Why,  I  play  no  tricks, 
I  lay  no  traps.'  Boswell:  'No,  sir.  You  are  six 
feet  high,  and  you  only  do  not  stoop.' 

We  talked  of  the  numbers  of  people  that  sometimes 
have  composed  the  household  of  great  families.  I 
mentioned  that  there  were  a  hundred  in  the  family  of 
the  present  Earl  of  Eglintoune's  father.  Dr.  Johnson 
seeming  to  doubt  it,  I  began  to  enumerate.  '  Let  us 
see:  my  Lord  and  my  Lady  two.'  Johnson:  'Nay, 
sir,  if  you  are  to  count  by  twos,  you  may  be  long 

VOL.  V.  B 


18  LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1778 

enough.'  Boswell  :  '  Well,  but  now  I  add  two  sons 
and  seven  daughters,  and  a  servant  for  each,  that  will 
make  twenty  ;  so  we  have  the  fifth  part  already.* 
Johnson  :  '  Very  true.  You  get  at  twenty  pretty 
readily ;  but  you  will  not  so  readily  get  farther  on. 
We  grow  to  five  feet  pretty  readily ;  but  it  is  not  so 
easy  to  grow  to  seven.' 

On  Sunday,  April  19,  being  Easter  Day,  after  the 
solemnities  of  the  festival  in  St.  Paul's  Church,  I 
visited  him  but  could  not  stay  to  dinner.  I  expressed 
a  wish  to  have  the  arguments  for  Christianity  always 
in  readiness,  that  my  religious  faith  may  be  as  firm 
and  clear  as  any  proposition  whatever,  so  that  I  need 
not  be  under  the  least  uneasiness  when  it  should  be 
attacked.  Johnson  :  '  Sir,  you  cannot  answer  all 
objections.  You  have  demonstration  for  a  First 
Cause  :  you  see  he  must  be  good  as  well  as  powerful, 
because  there  is  nothing  to  make  him  otherwise,  and 
goodness  of  itself  is  preferable.  Yet  you  have  against 
this,  what  is  very  certain,  the  unhappiness  of  human 
life.  This,  however,  gives  us  reason  to  hope  for  a 
future  state  of  compensation,  that  there  may  be  a 
perfect  system.  But  01"  that  we  were  not  sure  till  we 
had  a  positive  revelation. '  I  told  him  that  his  Rasselas 
had  often  made  me  unhappy ;  for  it  represented  the 
misery  of  human  life  so  well,  and  so  convincingly  to  a 
thinking  mind,  that  if  at  any  time  the  impression 
wore  off,  and  I  felt  mj'^self  easy,  I  began  to  suspect 
some  delusion. 

On  Monday,  April  20,  I  found  him  at  home  in  the 
morning.  We  talked  of  a  gentleman  who  we  appre- 
hended was  gradually  involving  his  circumstances  by 
bad  management.     Johnson  :  '  Wasting  a  fortune  is 


JET.eg]    LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON  19 

evaporation  by  a  thousand  imperceptible  means.  If 
it  were  a  stream,  they  'd  stop  it.  You  must  speak  to 
him.  It  is  really  miserable.  Were  he  a  gamester,  it 
could  be  said  he  had  hopes  of  winning.  Were  he  a 
bankrupt  in  trade,  he  might  have  grown  rich  ;  but  he 
has  neither  spirit  to  spend,  nor  resolution  to  spare. 
He  does  not  spend  fast  enough  to  have  pleasure  from 
it.  He  has  the  crime  of  prodigality,  and  the  wretched- 
ness of  parsimony.  If  a  man  is  killed  in  a  duel,  he  is 
killed  as  many  a  one  has  been  killed  ;  but  it  is  a  sad 
thing  for  a  man  to  lie  down  and  die ;  to  bleed  to 
death  because  he  has  not  fortitude  enough  to  sear  the 
wound,  or  even  to  stitch  it  up.'  I  cannot  but  pause  a 
moment  to  admire  the  fecundity  of  fancy  and  choice 
of  language,  which  in  this  instance,  and  indeed  on 
almost  all  occasions,  he  displayed.  It  was  well  observed 
by  Dr.  Percy,  now  Bishop  of  Dromore,  'The  con- 
versation of  Johnson  is  strong  and  clear,  and  may  be 
compared  to  an  antique  statue,  where  every  vein  and 
muscle  is  distinct  and  bold.  Ordinary  conversation 
resembles  an  inferior  cast.' 

On  Saturday,  April  25,  I  dined  with  him  at  Sir 
Joshua  Reynolds's,  with  the  learned  Dr.  Musgrave,^ 
Counsellor  Leland  of  Ireland,  son  to  the  historian, 
Mrs.  Cholmondeley,  and  some  more  ladies.  The 
Project,  a  new  poem,  was  read  to  the  company  by  Dr. 
Musgrave.  Johnson  :  '  Sir,  it  has  no  power.  Were 
it  not  for  the  well-known  names  with  which  it  is  filled 
it  would  be  nothing ;  the  names  carry  the  poet,  not 
the  poet  the  names.'  Musgbave:  '  A  temporary  poem 


1  [Samuel  Musgrave,  M.D.,  Editor  of  Eurifiittes,  and  author  of 
Dissertations  on  the  Grecian  Mythology,  etc.,  published  in  1782,  after 
bis  death,  by  Mr.  Tyrwhitt. — M.] 


20  LIFE    OF   DR,    JOHNSON        [1778 

always  entertains  us.'  Johnson  ;  '  So  does  an  account 
of  the  criminals  hanged  yesterday  entertain  us.' 

He  proceeded  :  '  Demosthenes  Taylor,  as  he  was 
called  (that  is,  the  editor  of  Demosthenes),  was  the 
most  silent  man,  the  merest  statue  of  a  man  that  I 
have  ever  seen.  I  once  dined  in  company  with  him, 
and  all  he  said  during  the  whole  time  was  no  more 
than  Richard.  How  a  man  should  say  only  Richard, 
it  is  not  easy  to  imagine.  But  it  was  thus :  Dr. 
Douglas  was  talking  of  Dr.  Zachary  Grey,  and  was 
ascribing  to  him  something  that  was  written  by  Dr. 
Richard  Grey.  So,  to  correct  him,  Taylor  said 
(imitating  his  aiTected  sententious  emphasis  and  nod), 
"  Richard. 

Mrs.  Cholmondeley,  in  a  high  flow  of  spirits,  ex- 
hibited some  lively  sallies  of  hyperbolical  compliment 
to  Johnson,  with  whom  she  had  been  long  acquainted, 
and  was  very  easy.  He  was  quick  in  catching  the 
manner  of  the  moment,  and  answered  her  somewhat 
in  the  style  of  the  hero  of  a  romance,  '  Madam,  you 
crown  me  with  unfading  laurels.' 

I  happened,  I  know  not  how,  to  say  that  a  pamphlet 
meant  a  prose  piece.  Johnson  :  '  No,  sir.  A  few 
sheets  of  poetry  unbound  are  a  pamphlet,^  as  much  as 
a  few  sheets  of  prose. '  Musgrave  :  '  A  pamphlet  may 
be  understood  to  mean  a  poetical  piece  in  West- 
minster Hall,  that  is,  in  formal  language ;  but  in 
common  language  it  is  understood  to  mean  prose.' 


1  [Dr.  Johnson  is  here  perfectly  correct,  and  is  supported  hy  the 
usage  of  preceding  writers.  So  in  Musarum  Delicia,  a  collection  of 
poems,  8vo,  1656  (the  writer  is  speaking  of  Suckling's  play  entitled 
Aglaura,  printed  in  folio)  : 

'  This  great  volnmrnons  pamphlet  may  be  said, 
To  be  like  one  that  hath  more  hair  than  head.' — M.] 


MT.6g]    LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON  21 

Johnson  (and  here  was  one  of  the  many  instances  of 
his  knowing  clearly  and  telling  exactly  how  a  thing 
is) :  '  A  pamphlet  is  understood  in  common  language 
to  mean  prose,  only  from  this,  that  there  is  so  much 
more  prose  written  than  poetry ;  as  when  we  say  a 
look,  prose  is  understood  for  the  same  reason,  though 
a  book  may  as  well  be  in  poetry  as  in  prose.  We 
understand  what  is  most  general,  and  we  name  what 
is  less  frequent.' 

We  talked  of  a  lady's  verses  on  Ireland.  Miss 
Reynolds  :  '  Have  you  seen  them,  sir  ? '  Johnson  : 
'  No,  madam,  I  have  seen  a  translation  from  Horace, 
by  one  of  her  daughters.  She  showed  it  me.'  Miss 
Reynolds  :  '  And  how  was  it,  sir  ? '  Johnson  :  '  Why, 
very  well  for  a  young  Miss's  verses ; — that  is  to  say, 
compared  with  excellence,  nothing ;  but  very  well  for 
the  person  who  wrote  them.  I  am  vexed  at  being 
shown  verses  in  that  manner.'  Miss  Reynolds  :  'But 
if  they  should  be  good,  why  not  give  them  hearty 
praise  ? '  Johnson  :  '  Why,  madam,  because  I  have 
not  then  got  the  better  of  my  bad  humour  from  having 
been  shown  them.  You  must  consider,  madam,  before- 
hand, they  may  be  bad,  as  well  as  good.  Nobody 
has  a  right  to  put  another  under  such  a  difficulty, 
that  he  must  either  hurt  the  person  by  telling  the 
truth,  or  hurt  himself  by  telling  what  is  not  true.' 
BoswELL :  'A  man  often  shows  his  writings  to  people 
of  eminence,  to  obtain  from  them,  either  from  their 
good-nature,  or  from  their  not  being  able  to  tell  the 
truth  firmly,  a  commendation  of  which  he  may  after- 
wards avail  himself.'  Johnson:  'Very  true,  sir. 
Therefore  the  man  who  is  asked  by  an  author  what 
he  thinks  of  his  work  is  put  to  the  torture,  and  is  not 


22  LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1778 

obliged  to  speak  the  truth ;  so  that  what  he  says  is 
not  considered  as  his  opinion ;  yet  he  has  said  it,  and 
cannot  retract  it ;  and  this  author,  when  mankind  are 
hunting  him  with  a  canister  at  his  tail,  can  say,  ''I 
would  not  have  published,  had  not  Johnson,  or  Rey- 
nolds, or  Musgrave,  or  some  other  good  judge  com- 
mended the  work."  Yet  I  consider  it  as  a  very  difficult 
question  in  conscience,  whether  one  should  advise  a 
man  not  to  publish  a  work,  if  profit  be  his  object ;  for 
the  man  may  say,  ''Had  it  not  been  for  you,  I 
should  have  had  the  money."  Now  you  cannot  be 
sure ;  for  you  have  only  your  own  opinion,  and  the 
public  may  think  very  differently.'  Sir  Joshua 
Reynolds  :  '  You  must  upon  such  an  occasion  have 
two  judgments  ;  one  as  to  the  real  value  of  the 
work,  the  other  as  to  what  may  please  the  general 
taste  at  the  time.'  Johnson  :  '  But  you  can  be 
sure  of  neither ;  and  therefore  I  should  'scruple 
to  give  a  suppressive  vote.  Both  Goldsmith's  come- 
dies were  once  refused :  his  first  by  Garrick,  his 
second  by  Colman,  who  was  prevailed  on  at  last 
by  much  solicitation,  nay,  a  kind  of  force,  to  bring 
it  on.  His  Vicar  of  Wakefield  I  myself  did  not 
think  would  have  had  much  success.  It  was  written 
and  sold  to  a  bookseller  before  his  Traveller,  but 
published  after ;  so  little  expectation  had  the  book- 
seller from  it.  Had  it  been  sold  after  the  Traveller, 
he  might  have  had  twice  as  much  money  for  it,  though 
sixty  guineas  was  no  mean  price.  The  bookseller  had 
the  advantage  of  Goldsmith's  reputation  from  the 
Traveller  in  the  sale,  though  Goldsmith  had  it  not  in 
selling  the  copy.'  Sib  Joshua  Reynolds  :  'The 
Beggar's  Opera  affords  a  proof  how  strangely  people 


JET.6g\    LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON  23 

will  differ  in  opinion  about  a  literary  performance. 
Burke  thinks  it  has  no  merit.'  Johnson:  ^It  was 
refused  by  one  of  the  houses ;  but  I  should  have 
thought  it  would  succeed,  not  from  any  great  excel- 
lence in  the  writing,  but  from  the  novelty,  and  the 
general  spirit  and  gaiety  of  the  piece,  which  keeps  the 
audience  always  attentive,  and  dismisses  them  in  good 
humour.  * 

We  went  to  the  drawing-room,  where  was  a  con- 
siderable increase  of  company.  Several  of  us  got 
round  Dr.  Johnson,  and  complained  that  he  would 
not  give  us  an  exact  catalogue  of  his  works,  that  there 
might  be  a  complete  edition.  He  smiled,  and  evaded 
our  entreaties.  That  he  intended  to  do  it,  I  have  no 
doubt,  because  I  have  heard  him  say  so ;  and  I  have 
in  my  possession  an  imperfect  list,  fairly  written  out, 
which  he  entitles  Eistoria  Studiorum.  I  once  got  from 
one  of  his  friends  a  list,  which  there  was  pretty  good 
reason  to  suppose  was  accurate,  for  it  was  written 
down  in  his  presence  by  this  friend,  who  enumerated 
each  article  aloud,  and  had  some  of  them  mentioned 
to  him  by  Mr.  Levett,  in  concert  with  whom  it  was 
made  out ;  and  Johnson,  who  heard  all  this,  did  not 
contradict  it.  But  when  I  showed  a  copy  of  this  list 
to  him,  and  mentioned  the  evidence  for  its  exactness, 
he  laughed  and  said,  'I  was  willing  to  let  them  go  on 
as  they  pleased,  and  never  interfered.'  Upon  which  I 
read  it  to  him,  article  by  article,  and  got  him  positively 
to  own  or  refuse  ;  and  then,  having  obtained  certainty 
80  far,  I  got  some  other  articles  confirmed  by  him 
directly,  and  afterwards,  from  time  to  time,  made 
additions  under  his  sanction. 

His  friend,  Edward  Cave,  having  been  mentioned. 


24  LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON       [1778 

he  told  us,  '  Cave  used  to  sell  ten  thousand  of  the 
Gentleman's  Magazine ;  yet  such  was  then  his  minute 
attention  and  anxiety  that  the  sale  should  not  suffer 
the  smallest  decrease,  that  he  would  name  a  particular 
person  who  he  heard  had  talked  of  leaving  off  the 
Magazine,  and  would  say,  ''Let  us  have  something 
good  next  month.'" 

It  was  observed  that  avarice  was  inherent  in  some 
dispositions.  Johnson  :  '  No  man  was  born  a  miser, 
because  no  man  was  born  to  possession.  Every  man 
is  born  cupidus — desirous  of  getting ;  but  not  avarus, 
^-desirous  of  keeping.'  Boswell  :  'I  have  heard  old 
Mr.  Sheridan  maintain,  with  much  ingenuity,  that  a 
complete  miser  is  a  happy  man;  a  miser  who  gives 
himself  wholly  to  the  one  passion  of  saving.'  John- 
son :  '  That  is  flying  in  the  face  of  all  the  world,  who 
have  called  an  avaricious  man  a  miser,  because  he  is 
miserable.  No,  sir ;  a  man  who  both  spends  and 
saves  money  is  the  happiest  man,  because  he  has  both 
enjoyments.' 

The  conversation  having  turned  on  Bon-mots,  he 
quoted,  from  one  of  the  Ana,  an  exquisite  instance  of 
flattery  in  a  maid  of  honour  in  France,  who  being 
asked  by  the  Queen  what  o'clock  it  was,  answered, 
'What  your  Majesty  pleases.'  He  admitted  that  Mr. 
Burke's  classical  pun  upon  Mr.  Wilkes's  being  carried 
on  the  shoulders  of  the  mob, 

• .  .  .  numerisque  f ertvir 
Lege  solutus,'^ 

was  admirable ;  and  though  he  was  strangely  unwill- 
ing to  allow  to  that  extraordinary  man  the  talent  of 

1  Hor.  Carm.  Lib.  iv.  Od.  ii.  ii. 


.EX.  69]     LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  25 

wit,^  he  also  laughed  with  approbation  at  another 
of  his  playful  conceits  ;  which  was^  that  '  Horace  has 
in  one  line  given  a  description  of  a  good  desirable 
manor :  ^ 

' "  Est  modus  in  rebus,  simt  certi  denique  fines,"  ' — 

that  is  to  say^  a  modus  as  to  the  tithes,  and  certain 
fines' 

He  observed,  '  A  man  cannot  with  propriety  speak 
of  himself,  except  he  relates  simple  facts  ;  as,  "  I  was 
at  Richmond  "  :  or  what  depends  on  mensuration  ;  as, 
"I  am  six  feet  high."  He  is  sure  he  has  been  at 
Richmond ;  he  is  sure  he  is  six  feet  high ;  but  he 
cannot  be  sure  he  is  wise,  or  that  he  has  any  other 
excellence.  Then,  all  censure  of  a  man's  self  is  oblique 
praise.  It  is  in  order  to  show  how  much  he  can  spare- 
It  has  all  the  invidiousness  of  self-praise,  and  all  the 
reproach  of  falsehood.'  Boswell  :  '  Sometimes  it  may 
proceed  from  a  man's  strong  consciousness  of  his  faults 
being  observed.  He  knows  that  others  would  throw 
him  down,  and  therefore  he  had  better  lie  down  softly 
of  his  own  accord.' 


1  See  this  question  fully  investigated  in  the  notes  upon  my  Journal 
of  a  Tour  to  the  Hebrides,  3rd  edit.,  p.  21,  et  seg.  And  here,  as  a 
lawyer  mindful  of  the  maxim  Suum  cuique  tribuito,  I  cannot  forbear 
to  mention  that  the  additional  note  beginning  with  '  I  find  since  the 
former  edition '  is  not  mine,  but  was  obligingly  furnished  by  Mr.  Malone, 
who  was  so  kind  as  to  superintend  the  press  while  I  was  in  Scotland, 
and  the  first  part  of  the  second  edition  was  printing.  He  would  not 
allow  me  to  ascribe  it  to  its  proper  author  ;  but,  as  it  is  exquisitely 
acute  and  elegant,  I  take  this  opportunity,  without  his  knowledge,  to 
do  him  Justice. 

2  [This,  as  both  Mr.  Bindley  and  Dr.  Kearney  have  observed  to  me, 
is  the  motto  to  An  Enquiry  into  Customary  Estates  and  Ttnanti 
Rights,  etc. — -with  some  considerations  for  restraining  excessive  fines. 
By  Everard  Fleetwood,  Esq.,  8vo,  173 1.  But  it  is,  probably,  a  mere 
coincidence.     Mr.  Burke  perhaps  never  saw  that  pamphlet. — M.] 

•  I  Sat.  i.  106. 


26  LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON        [1778 

On  Tuesday^  April  28,  he  was  engaged  to  dine  at 
General  Paoli's,  where,  as  I  have  already  observed,  I 
was  still  entertained  in  elegant  hospitality,  and  with 
all  the  ease  and  comfort  of  a  home.  I  called  on  him, 
and  accompanied  him  in  a  hackney-coach.  We 
stopped  first  at  the  bottom  of  Hedge  Lane,  into 
which  he  went  to  leave  a  letter,  'with  good  news 
for  a  poor  man  in  distress,'  as  he  told  me.  I  did 
not  question  him  particularly  as  to  this.  He  himself 
often  resembled  Lady  Bolingbroke's  lively  description 
of  Pope,  that  '  he  was  un  politique  aux  choux  et  aux 
raves.'  He  would  say,  '  I  dine  to-day  in  Grosvenor 
Square ' ;  this  might  be  with  a  Duke  ;  or,  perhaps,  '  I 
dine  to-day  at  the  other  end  of  the  town ' :  or,  'A 
gentleman  of  great  eminence  called  on  me  yesterday.' 
He  loved  thus  to  keep  things  floating  in  conjecture  : 
Omne  ignotum  pro  magnifico  est.  I  believe  I  ventured 
to  dissipate  the  cloud,  to  unveil  the  mystery,  more 
freely  and  frequently  than  any  of  his  friends.  We 
stopped  again  at  Wirgman's,  the  well-known  toy  shop, 
in  St  James's  Street,  at  the  corner  of  St  James's 
Place,  to  which  he  had  been  directed,  but  not  clearly, 
for  he  searched  about  some  time,  and  could  not  find 
it  at  first ;  and  said,  '  To  direct  me  only  to  a  corner 
shop  is  toying  with  one.'  I  suppose  he  meant  this  as 
a  play  upon  the  word  toy ;  it  was  the  first  time  that  I 
knew  him  stoop  to  such  sport.  After  he  had  been 
some  time  in  the  shop,  he  sent  for  me  to  come  out  of 
the  coach,  and  help  him  to  choose  a  pair  of  silver 
buckles,  as  those  he  had  were  too  small.  Probably 
this  alteration  in  dress  had  been  suggested  by  Mrs. 
Thrale,  by  associating  with  whom  his  external  appear- 
ance was  much  improved.     He  got  better  clothes ;  and 


^T.  69]     LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  27 

the  dark  colour,  from  which  he  never  deviated,  was 
enlivened  by  metal  buttons.  His  wigs,  too,  were 
much  better ;  and  during  their  travels  in  France,  he 
was  furnished  with  a  Paris-made  wig,  of  handsome 
construction.  This  choosing  of  silver  buckles  was 
a  negotiation  :  '  Sir  (said  he),  I  will  not  have  the 
ridiculous  large  ones  now  in  fashion ;  and  I  will  give 
no  more  than  a  guinea  for  a  pair.'  Such  were  the 
principles  of  the  business ;  and,  after  some  examina- 
tion, he  was  fitted.  As  we  drove  along,  I  found  him 
in  a  talking  humour,  of  which  I  availed  myself. 
BoswELL  :  '  I  was  this  morning  in  Ridley's  shop,  sir ; 
and  was  told  that  the  collection  called  Johnsoniana 
has  sold  very  much.'  Johnson  :  'Yet  the  Journey  to 
the  Hebrides  has  not  had  a  great  sale.'  ^  Boswell  : 
*That  is  strange.'  Johnson:  'Yes,  sir;  for  in  that 
book  I  have  told  the  world  a  great  deal  that  they  did 
not  know  before. ' 

Boswell:  'I  drank  chocolate,  sir,  this  morning 
with  Mr.  Eld  ;  and,  to  my  no  small  surprise,  found 
him  to  be  a  Staffordshire  Whig,  a  being  which  I  did 
not  believe  had  existed.'  Johnson:  'Sir,  there  are 
rascals  in  all  countries.'  Boswell  :  '  Eld  said,  a  Tory 
was  a  creature  generated  between  a  non-juring  parson 
and  one's  grandmother.'  Johnson:  'And  I  have 
always  said,  the  first  Whig  was  the  Devil.'  Boswell  : 
'He   certainly  was,  sir.      The   DevU  was  impatient 


_  ^  Here  he  either  was  mistaken,  or  had  a  different  notion  of  an  exten- 
sive sale  from  what  is  generally  entertained  :  for  the  fact  is,  that  four 
thotisand  copies  of  that  excellent  work  were  sold  very  quickly.  A  new 
editjon  has  been  printed  since  his  death,  besides  that  in  the  collection 
of  his  works. 

[Another  edition  has  been  printed  since  Mr.  Boswell  wrote  the  above, 
besides  repeated  editions  in  the  general  collection  of  his  works  during 
the  last  ten  years.^M.] 


28  LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1778 

of   subordination;    he   was    the    first    who    resisted 
power : 

'  "  Better  to  reign  in  Hell,  than  serve  in  Heaven." ' 

At  General  Paoli's  were  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds^  Mr 
Langton,  Marchese  Gherardi  of  Lombardy,  and  Mr. 
John  Spottiswoode  the  younger,  of  Spottiswoode,^ 
the  solicitor.  At  this  time  fears  of  invasion  were 
circulated;  to  obviate  which,  Mr.  Spottiswoode  ob- 
served, that  Mr.  Fraser  the  engineer,  who  had  lately 
come  from  Dunkirk,  said,  that  the  French  had  the 
same  fears  of  us.  Johnson  :  '  It  is  thus  that  mutual 
cowardice  keeps  us  in  peace.  Were  one  half  of  man- 
kind brave,  and  one  half  cowards,  the  brave  would  be 
always  beating  the  cowards.  Were  all  brave,  they 
would  lead  a  very  uneasy  life ;  all  would  be  con- 
tinually fighting ;  but  being  all  cowards,  we  go  on 
very  well. ' 

We  talked  of  drinking  wine.  Johnson  :  '  I  require 
wine,  only  when  I  am  alone.  I  have  then  often 
wished  for  it,  and  often  taken  it.'  Spottiswoode: 
*  What,  by  way  of  a  companion,  sir .'' '  Johnson  : 
*To  get  rid  of  myself,  to  send  myself  away.  Wine 
gives  great  pleasure,  and  every  pleasure  is  of  itself 
a  good.  It  is  a  good,  unless  counterbalanced  by  evil. 
A  man  may  have  a  strong  reason  not  to  drink  wine ; 
and  that  may  be  greater  than  the  pleasure.  Wine 
makes  a  man  better  pleased  with  himself.  I  do  not 
say  that  it  makes  him  more  pleasing  to  others.     Some- 


1  In  the  phraseology  of  Scotland,  I  should  have  said,  '  Mr.  John 
Spottiswoode  the  younger,  a/  that  ilk.'  Johnson  knew  that  sense  of 
the  word  very  well,  and  has  thus  explained  it  in  his  Dictionary,  voct 
Ilk — '  It  also  signifies  "  the  same  "  ;  as  Mackintosh  of  that  ilk,  denotes 
a  gentleman  whose  surname  and  the  title  of  his  estate  are  the  same.' 


JET.  69]     LIFE    OF    DIL    JOHNSON  29 

times  it  does.  But  the  danger  is,  that  while  a  man 
grows  better  pleased  with  himself,  he  may  be  growing 
less  pleasing  to  others.^  Wine  gives  a  man  nothing. 
It  neither  gives  him  knowledge  nor  wit ;  it  only 
animates  a  man,  and  enables  him  to  bring  out  what 
a  dread  of  the  company  has  repressed.  It  only  puts 
in  motion  what  has  been  locked  up  in  frost.  But  this 
may  be  good,  or  it  may  be  bad.'  Spottiswoode  :  '  So, 
sir,  wine  is  a  key  which  opens  a  box ;  but  this  box 
may  be  either  full  or  empty  ? '  Johnson  :  '  Nay,  sir, 
conversation  is  the  key,  wine  is  a  pick-lock,  which 
forces  open  the  box,  and  injures  it.  A  man  should 
cultivate  his  mind  so  as  to  have  that  confidence  and 
readiness  without  wine,  which  wine  gives.'  Boswell  : 
*  The  great  difficulty  of  resisting  wine  is  from  benevo- 
lence. For  instance,  a  good  worthy  man  asks  you  to 
taste  his  wine,  which  he  has  had  twenty  years  in  his 
cellar  '  Johnson  :  '  Sir,  all  this  notion  about  benevo- 
lence arises  from  a  man's  imagining  himself  to  be  of 
more  importance  to  others  than  he  really  is.  They 
don't  care  a  farthing  whether  he  drinks  wine  or  not.' 
Sib  Joshua  Reynolds  :  '  Yes,  they  do  for  the  time.' 
Johnson  :  '  For  the  time  ! — if  they  care  this  minute, 
they  forget  it  the  next.  And  as  for  the  good  worthy 
man ;  how  do  you  know  he  is  good  and  worthy  ? 
No  good  and  worthy  man  wUl  insist  upon  another 
man's  drinking  wine.  As  to  the  wine  twenty  years  in 
the  cellar — of  ten  men,  three  say  this,  merely  because 


1  It  is  observed  in  Waller's  Life,  in  the  Bioi^aphia  Britannica,  that 
be  drank  only  water ;  and  that  while  he  sat  in  a  company  who  were 
drinking  wine,  '  he  had  the  dexterity  to  accommodate  his  discourse  to 
the  pitch  of  theirs  as  it  sunk.'  If  excess  in  drinking  be  meant,  the 
remark  is  acutely  just.  But  surely  a  moderate  use  of  wine  gives  a 
gaiety  of  spirits  which  water-drinkers  know  not. 


30  LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1778 

they  must  say  something ;  three  are  telling  a  lie, 
when  they  say  they  have  had  the  wine  twenty  years  ; 
three  would  rather  save  the  wine ;  one,  perhaps,  cares, 
I  allow  it  is  something  to  please  one's  company ;  and 
people  are  always  pleased  with  those  who  partake 
pleasure  with  them.  But  after  a  man  has  brought 
himself  to  relinquish  the  great  personal  pleasure 
which  arises  from  drinking  wine,  any  other  con- 
sideration is  a  trifle.  To  please  others  by  drinking 
wine,  is  something  only,  if  there  be  nothing  against 
it.  I  should,  however,  be  sorry  to  offend  worthy 
men : 

'  "  Curst  be  the  verse,  how  well  soe'er  it  flow, 
That  tends  to  make  one  worthy  man  my  foe."' 

BoswELL :  *  Curst  be  the  spring,  the  water.'  Johnson  : 
*  But  let  us  consider  what  a  sad  thing  it  would  be,  if 
we  were  obliged  to  drink  or  do  anything  else  that 
may  happen  to  be  agreeable  to  the  company  where 
we  are.'  Langton  :  '  By  the  same  rule  you  must 
join  with  a  gang  of  cut-purses.'  Johnson  :  '  Yes, 
sir ;  but  yet  we  must  do  justice  to  wine ;  we  must 
allow  it  the  power  it  possesses.  To  make  a  man 
pleased  with  himself,  let  me  tell  you,  is  doing  a  very 
great  thing : 

*"Si  patri(B  volv/mus,  si  Nobis  vivere  cari," 

I  was  at  this  time  myself  a  water-drinker,  upon  trial, 
by  Johnson's  recommendation.  Johnson  :  '  Boswell 
is  a  bolder  combatant  than  Sir  Joshua ;  he  argues  for 
wine  without  the  help  of  wine ;  but  Sir  Joshua  with 
it.'  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds:  'But  to  please  one's 
company  is  a  strong  motive.'     Johnson  (who  from 


;et,  69]     LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON  31 

drinking  only  water,  supposed  everybody  who  drank 
wine  to  be  elevated) :  '  I  won't  argue  any  more  with 
you,  sir.  You  are  too  far  gone.'  Sib  Joshua:  'I 
should  have  thought  so  indeed,  sir,  had  I  made  such 
a  speech  as  you  have  now  done.'  Johnson  (drawing 
himself  in,  and  I  really  thought  blushing) :  '  Nay, 
don't  be  angry.  I  did  not  mean  to  offend  you. '  Sir 
Joshua  :  '  At  first  the  taste  of  wine  was  disagreeable 
to  me ;  but  I  brought  myself  to  drink  it,  that  I  might 
be  like  other  people.  The  pleasure  of  drinking  wine 
is  so  connected  with  pleasing  your  company,  that  alto- 
gether there  is  something  of  social  goodness  in  it.' 
Johnson  :  '  Sir,  this  is  only  saying  the  same  thing 
over  again.'  Sir  Joshua:  'No,  this  is  new.'  John- 
son :  '  You  put  it  in  new  words,  but  it  is  an  old 
thought.  This  is  one  of  the  disadvantages  of  wine, 
it  makes  a  man  mistake  words  for  thoughts. '  BoswEUi : 
'  I  think  it  is  a  new  thought ;  at  least,  it  is  a  new 
attitude.'  Johnson  :  '  Nay,  sir,  it  is  only  in  a  new 
coat ;  or  an  old  coat  with  a  new  facing.  (Then  laugh- 
ing heartily)  It  is  the  old  dog  in  a  new  doublet. — 
An  extraordinary  instance,  however,  may  occur  where 
a  man's  patron  will  do  nothing  for  him  unless  he 
will  drink :  there  may  be  a  good  reason  for  drinking.' 
I  mentioned  a  nobleman,  who  I  believed  was  reaUy 
uneasy  if  his  company  would  not  drink  hard.  John- 
son :  *  That  is  from  having  had  people  about  him  whom 
he  has  been  accustomed  to  command.'  Boswell: 
'  Supposing  I  should  be  tete-d-tete  with  him  at  table.' 
Johnson  :  '  Sir,  there  is  no  more  reason  for  your 
drinking  with  him,  than  his  being  sober  with  you. 
BoswELL :  *  Why,  that  is  true ;  for  it  would  do  him 
less  hurt  to  be  sober,  than  it  would  do  me  to  get 


32  LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1778 

drunk.'  Johnson:  'Yes,  sir;  and  from  what  I  have 
heard  of  him,  one  would  not  wish  to  sacrifice  himself 
to  such  a  man.  If  he  must  always  have  somebody  to 
drink  with  him,  he  should  buy  a  slave,  and  then  he 
would  be  sure  to  have  it.  They  who  submit  to  drink 
as  another  pleases,  make  themselves  his  slaves.' 
BoswEiiL :  '  But,  sir,  you  will  surely  make  allowance 
for  the  duty  of  hospitality.  A  gentleman  who  loves 
drinking  comes  to  visit  me. '  Johnson  :  '  Sir,  a  man 
knows  whom  he  visits ;  he  comes  to  the  table  of  a 
sober  man.'  Boswell  :  '  But,  sir,  you  and  I  should 
not  have  been  so  well  received  in  the  Highlands  and 
Hebrides,  if  I  had  not  drunk  with  our  worthy  friends. 
Had  I  drunk  water  only,  as  you  did,  they  would  not 
have  been  so  cordial.'  Johnson  :  '  Sir  William  Temple 
mentions,  that  in  his  travels  through  the  Netherlands 
he  had  two  or  three  gentlemen  with  him  ;  and  when 
a  bumper  was  necessary,  he  put  it  on  them.  Were 
I  to  travel  again  through  the  islands,  I  would  have 
Sir  Joshua  with  me  to  take  the  bumpers.'  Boswell  : 
*  But,  sir,  let  me  put  a  case :  Suppose  Sir  Joshua 
should  take  a  jaunt  into  Scotland ;  he  does  me  the 
honour  to  pay  me  a  visit  at  my  house  in  the  country ; 
I  am  overjoyed  at  seeing  him ;  we  are  quite  by  our- 
selves ;  shall  I  unsociably  and  churlishly  let  him  sit 
drinking  by  himself.''  No,  no,  my  dear  Sir  Joshua, 
you  shall  not  be  treated  so,  I  vnll  take  a  bottle  with 
you.' 

The  celebrated  Mrs.  Rudd  being  mentioned — John- 
son :  *  Fifteen  years  ago  I  should  have  gone  to  see 
her.'  Spottiswoode :  'Because  she  was  fifteen  years 
younger  ? '  Johnson  :  '  No,  sir ;  but  now  they  have 
a  trick  of  putting  everything  in  the  newspapers.' 


yET.69]     LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  33 

He  begged  of  General  Paoli  to  repeat  one  of  the 
introductory  stanzas  of  the  first  book  of  Tasso's 
Jeriisalem,  which  he  did,  and  then  Johnson  found 
fault  with  the  simile  of  sweetening  the  edges  of  a 
cup  for  a  child,  being  transferred  from  Lucretius  into 
an  epic  poem.  The  General  said  he  did  not  imagine 
Homer's  poetry  was  so  ancient  as  is  supposed,  because 
he  ascribes  to  a  Greek  colony  circumstances  of  refine- 
ment not  found  in  Greece  itself  at  a  later  period,  when 
Thucydides  wrote.  Johnson  :  '  I  recollect  but  one 
passage  quoted  by  Thucydides  from  Homer,  which  is 
not  to  be  found  in  our  copies  of  Homer's  works  ;  I  am 
for  the  antiquity  of  Homer,  and  think  that  a  Grecian 
colony  by  being  nearer  Persia  might  be  more  refined 
than  the  mother  country.' 

On  Wednesday,  April  29,  I  dined  with  him  at  Mr. 
Allan  Ramsay's,  where  were  Lord  Binning,  Dr. 
Robertson  the  historian.  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  and 
the  Honourable  Mrs.  Boscawen,  widow  of  the  Admiral, 
and  mother  of  the  present  Viscount  Falmouth ;  of 
whom,  if  it  be  not  presumptuous  in  me  to  praise  her, 
I  would  say,  that  her  manners  are  the  most  agreeable, 
and  her  conversation  the  best,  of  any  lady  with  whom 
I  ever  had  the  happiness  to  be  acquainted.  Before 
Johnson  came  we  talked  a  good  deal  of  him  ;  Ramsay 
said  he  had  always  found  him  a  very  polite  man,  and 
that  he  treated  him  with  great  respect,  which  he  did 
very  sincerely.  I  said  I  worshipped  him.  Robert- 
son :  '  But  some  of  you  spoil  him  :  you  should  not 
worship  him ;  you  should  worship  no  man. '  Boswell  : 
'  I  cannot  help  worshipping  him,  he  is  so  much 
superior  to  other  men. '  Robertson  :  *  In  criticism, 
and  in  wit  and  conversation,  he  is  no  doubt  very 

VOL.  V.  0 


34  LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1778 

excellent ;  but  in  other  respects  he  is  not  above  other 
men ;  he  will  believe  anything,  and  will  strenuously 
defend  the  most  minute  circumstances  connected  with 
the  Church  of  England.'  Boswell:  'Believe  me. 
Doctor,  you  are  much  mistaken  as  to  this ;  for  when 
you  talk  with  him  calmly  in  private,  he  is  very  liberal 
in  his  way  of  thinking.'  Robertson:  'He  and  I 
have  been  always  very  gracious ;  the  first  time  I  met 
him  was  one  evening  at  Strahan's,  when  he  had  just 
had  an  unlucky  altercation  with  Adam  Smith,  to  whom 
he  had  been  so  rough,  that  Strahan,  after  Smith  was 
gone,  had  remonstrated  with  him,  and  told  him  that  I 
was  coming  soon,  and  that  he  was  uneasy  to  think  that 
he  might'behave  in  the  same  manner  to  me.  "  No,  no, 
sir  (said  Johnson),  I  warrant  you  Robertson  and  I  shall 
do  very  well."  Accordingly  he  was  gentle  and  good- 
humoured  and  courteous  with  me,  the  whole  evening ; 
and  he  has  been  so  upon  every  occasion  that  we  have 
met  since.  I  have  often  said  (laughing),  that  I  have 
been  in  a  great  measure  indebted  to  Smith  for  my 
good  reception.'  Boswell:  'His  power  of  reasoning 
is  very  strong,  and  he  has  a  peculiar  art  of  drawing 
characters,  which  is  as  rare  as  good  portrait^painting.' 
Sm  Joshua  Reynolds  :  '  He  is  undoubtedly  admirable 
in  this;  but  in  order  to  mark  the  characters  which 
he  draws,  he  overcharges  them,  and  gives  people  more 
than  they  really  have,  whether  of  good  or  bad.' 

No  sooner  did  he,  of  whom  we  had  been  thus  talk- 
ing so  easily,  arrive,  than  we  were  all  as  quiet  as  a 
school  upon  the  entrance  of  the  headmaster ;  and 
were  very  soon  sat  down  to  a  table  covered  with  such 
variety  of  good  things,  as  contributed  not  a  little  to 
dispose  him  to  be  pleased. 


iET.  69]    LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON  36 

Ramsay  :  '  I  am  old  enougli  to  have  been  a  contem- 
porary of  Pope.  His  poetry  was  highly  admired  in 
his  lifetime,  more  a  great  deal  than  after  his  death.* 
Johnson  :  '  Sir,  it  has  not  been  less  admired  since  his 
death;  no  authors  ever  had  so  much  fame  in  their 
own  lifetime  as  Pope  and  Voltaire ;  and  Pope's  poetry 
has  been  as  much  admired  since  his  death  as  during 
his  life ;  it  has  only  not  been  as  much  talked  of,  but 
that  is  owing  to  its  being  now  more  distant,  and  people 
having  other  writings  to  talk  of.  Virgil  is  less  talked 
of  than  Pope,  and  Homer  is  less  talked  of  than  VirgU ; 
but  they  are  not  less  admired.  We  must  read  what 
the  world  reads  at  the  moment.  It  has  been  main- 
tained that  this  superfetation,  this  teeming  of  the 
press  in  modern  times,  is  prejudicial  to  good  literature, 
because  it  obliges  us  to  read  so  much  of  what  is  of  in- 
ferior value,  in  order  to  be  in  the  fashion ;  so  that 
better  works  are  neglected  for  want  of  time,  because  a 
man  will  have  more  gratification  of  his  vanity  in  con- 
versation, from  having  read  modern  books,  than  from 
having  read  the  best  works  of  antiquity.  But  it  must 
be  considered  that  we  have  now  more  knowledge 
generally  diffused ;  all  our  ladies  read  now,  which  is 
a  great  extension.  Modern  writers  are  the  moons  of 
literature ;  they  shine  with  reflected  light,  with  light 
borrowed  from  the  ancients.  Greece  appears  to  me  to 
be  the  fountain  of  knowledge ;  Rome  of  elegance.' 
Ramsay  :  *  I  suppose  Homer's  Iliad  to  be  a  collection 
of  pieces  which  had  been  written  before  his  time.  I 
should  like  to  see  a  translation  of  it  in  poetical  prose, 
like  the  book  of  Ruth  or  Job.'  Robertson  :  '  Would 
you.  Dr.  Johnson,  who  are  master  of  the  English 
language,  but  try  your  hand  upon  a  part  of  it.'  John- 


36  LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON        [1778 

SON  :  '  Sir,  you  could  not  read  it  without  the  pleasure 
of  verse.'  ^ 

We  talked  of  antiquarian  researches.  Johnson  : 
'All  that  is  really  known  of  the  ancient  state  of 
Britain  is  contained  in  a  few  pages.  We  can  know  no 
more  than  what  the  old  writers  have  told  us;  yet  what 
large  books  have  we  upon  it,  the  whole  of  which,  ex- 
cepting such  parts  as  are  taken  from  those  old  writers, 
is  all  a  dream,  such  as  Whitaker's  Manchester.  I  have 
heard  Henry's  History  0/ Britain  well  spoken  of:  I  am 
told  it  is  carried  on  in  separate  divisions,  as  the  civil, 
the  military,  the  religious  history ;  I  wish  much  to 
have  one  branch  well  done,  and  that  is  the  history 
of  manners,  of  common  life. '  Robertson  :  '  Henry 
should  have  applied  his  attention  to  that  alone,  which 
is  enough  for  any  man ;  and  he  might  have  found  a 
great  deal  scattered  in  various  books,  had  he  read 
solely  with  that  view.  Henry  erred  in  not  selling  his 
first  volume  at  a  moderate  price  to  the  booksellers, 
that  they  might  have  pushed  him  on  till  he  had  got 
reputation.  I  sold  my  History  of  Scotland  at  a  moder- 
ate price,  as  a  work  by  which  the  booksellers  might 
either  gain  or  not ;  and  Cadell  has  told  me  that 
Millar  and  he  have  got  six  thousand  pounds  by  it.  I 
afterwards  received  a  much  higher  price  for  my  writ- 
ings. An  author  should  sell  his  first  work  for  what 
the  booksellers  will  give,  till  it  shall  appear  whether 
he  is  an  author  of  merit,  or,  which  is  the  same  thing  as 
to  purchase-money,  an  author  who  pleases  the  public' 


1  This  exjjeriment,  which  Madame  Dacier  made  in  vain,  has  since 
been  tried  in  our  own  language,  by  the  editor  of  Ossian,  and  we  must 
either  think  very  meanly  of  his  abilities,  or  allow  that  Dr.  Johnson  was 
in  the  right.  And  Mr.  Cowper,  a  man  of  real  genius,  has  miserably 
failed  in  his  blank  verse  translation. 


;et.  69]     LIFE    OF  DR.    JOHNSON  37 

Dr.  Robertson  expatiated  on  the  character  of  a  cer- 
tain nobleman,^  that  he  was  one  of  the  strongest- 
minded  men  that  ever  lived ;  that  he  would  sit  in 
company  quite  sluggish,  while  there  was  nothing  to 
call  forth  his  intellectual  vigour ;  but  the  moment 
that  any  important  subject  was  started,  for  instance, 
how  this  country  is  to  be  defended  against  a  French 
invasion,  he  would  rouse  himself,  and  show  his  extra- 
ordinary talents  with  the  most  powerful  ability  and 
animation.  Johnson  :  '  Yet  this  man  cut  his  own 
throat.  The  true,  strong,  and  sound  mind  is  the  mind 
that  can  embrace  equally  great  things  and  small. 
Now  I  am  told  that  the  King  of  Prussia  will  say  to  a 
servant,  ''Bring  me  a  bottle  of  such  a  wine,  which 
came  in  such  a  year ;  it  lies  in  such  a  corner  of  the 
cellars."  I  would  have  a  man  great  in  great  things, 
and  elegant  in  little  things.'  He  said  to  me  after- 
wards, when  we  were  by  ourselves  :  '  Robertson  was  in  a 
mighty  romantic  humour,  he  talked  of  one  whom  he  did 
not  know ;  but  I  downed  him  with  the  King  of  Prussia.' 
*  Yes,  sir  (said  I),  you  threw  a  bottle  at  his  head.' 

An  ingenious  gentleman  was  mentioned,  concerning 
whom  both  Robertson  and  Ramsay  agreed  that  he  had 
a  constant  firmness  of  mind  ;  for  after  a  laborious  day, 
and  amidst  a  multiplicity  of  cares  and  anxieties,  he 
would  sit  down  with  his  sisters  and  be  quite  cheerful 
and  good-humoured.  Such  a  disposition,  it  was  ob- 
served, was  a  happy  gift  of  nature.  Johnson  :  '  I  do 
not  think  so  ;  a  man  has  from  nature  a  certain  portion 
of  mind ;  the  use  he  makes  of  it  depends  upon  his  own 
free  will.     That  a  man  has  always  the  same  firmness 


»  [Lord  aive.— A.  B.] 


88  LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1778 

of  mind,  I  do  not  say ;  because  every  man  feels  his 
mind  less  firm  at  one  time  than  another ;  but  I  think 
a  man's  being  in  a  good  or  bad  humour  depends  upon 
his  will.'  I,  however,  could  not  help  thinking  that  a 
man's  humour  is  often  uncontrollable  by  his  will. 

Johnson  harangued  against  drinking  wine.  '  A  man 
(said  he)  may  choose  whether  he  will  have  abstemious- 
ness and  knowledge,  or  claret  and  ignorance.'  Dr. 
Robertson  (who  is  very  companionable)  was  beginning 
to  dissent  as  to  the  proscription  of  claret.  Johnson 
(with  a  placid  smile):  'Nay,  sir,  you  shall  not  differ 
with  me ;  as  I  have  said  that  the  man  is  most  perfect 
who  takes  in  the  most  things,  I  am  for  knowledge  and 
claret.'  Robertson  (holding  a  glass  of  generous  claret 
in  his  hand) :  '  Sir,  I  can  only  drink  your  health. ' 
Johnson  :  *  Sir,  I  should  be  sorry  if  you  should  be 
ever  in  such  a  state  as  to  be  able  to  do  nothing  more.* 
Robertson  :  *  Dr.  Johnson,  allow  me  to  say  that  in 
one  respect  I  have  the  advantage  of  you ;  when  you 
were  in  Scotland  you  would  not  come  to  hear  any  of 
our  preachers,  whereas,  when  I  am  here,  I  attend  your 
public  worship  without  scruple,  and,  indeed,  with  great 
satisfaction.'  Johnson  :  *  Why,  sir,  that  is  not  so  extra- 
ordinary :  the  King  of  Siam  sent  ambassadors  to  Louis 
the  Fourteenth  ;  but  Louis  the  Fourteenth  sent  none 
to  the  King  of  Siam.'  ^ 

Here  my  friend,  for  once,  discovered  a  want  of 
knowledge,  or  forgetfulness ;  for  Louis  the  Fourteenth 
did  send  an  embassy  to  the  King  of  Siam,^  and  the 


1  Mrs.  Piozzi  confidently  mentions  this  as  having  passed  in  Scotland. 
— A  necdotcs. 

2  [The  AbW  de  Choisi  was  sent  by  Louis  xiv.  on  an  embassy  to  the 
King  of  Siam  in  1683,  with  a  view,  it  has  been  said,  to  convert  the  king 
of  that  country  to  Christianity.— M.] 


^T.  69]    LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON  39 

Abbe  Choisij  who  was  employed  in  it,  published  an 
account  of  it  in  two  volumes. 

Next  day,  Thursday,  April  30,  I  found  him  at  home 
by  himself.  Johnson  :  '  Well,  sir,  Ramsay  gave  us 
a  splendid  dinner.  I  love  Ramsay.  You  will  not 
find  a  man  in  whose  conversation  there  is  more  in- 
struction, more  information,  and  more  elegance  than 
in  Ramsay's.'  Boswell  :  'What  I  admire  in  Ramsay, 
is  his  continuing  to  be  so  young,'  Johnson:  'Why 
yes,  sir,  it  is  to  be  admired.  I  value  myself  upon  this, 
that  there  is  nothing  of  the  old  man  in  my  conversa- 
tion. I  am  now  sixty-eight,  and  I  have  no  more  of  it 
than  at  twenty-eight.'  Boswell:  'But,  sir,  would 
not  you  wish  to  know  old  age  ?  He  who  is  never  an 
old  man,  does  not  know  the  whole  of  human  life ;  for 
old  age  is  one  of  the  divisions  of  it.'  Johnson  :  '  Nay, 
sir,  what  talk  is  this .'' '  Boswell  :  *  I  mean,  sir,  the 
Sphinx's  description  of  it ; — morning,  noon,  and  night. 
I  would  know  night  as  well  as  morning  and  noon.' 
Johnson  :  '  What,  sir,  would  you  know  what  it  is  to 
feel  the  evils  of  old  age  ?  Would  you  have  the  gout  ? 
Would  you  have  decrepitude.^'  Seeing  him  heated,  I 
would  not  argue  any  further ;  but  I  was  confident  that 
I  was  in  the  right.  I  would,  in  due  time,  be  a  Nestor, 
an  elder  of  the  people ;  and  there  should  be  some 
difference  between  the  conversation  of  twenty-eight 
and  sixty-eight.^    A  grave  picture  should  not  be  gay. 

1  Johnson  clearly  meant  (what  the  author  has  often  elsewhere  men- 
tioned), that  he  had  none  of  the  listlessness  of  old  age,  that  he  had  the 
same  activity  and  energy  of  mind  as  formerly ;  not  that  a  man  of  sixty- 
eight  might  dance_  in  a  public  assembly  with  as  much  propriety  as  he 
could  at  twenty-eight.  His  conversation,  being  the  product  of  much 
various  knowledge,  great  acuteness,  and  extraordinary  wit,  was  equally 
well  suited  to  every  period  of  life  ;  and  as  in  his  youth  it  probably  did 
not  exhibit  any  unbecoming  levity,  so  certainly  in  his  later  years  it  was 
totally  free  from  the  garrulity  and  querulousness  of  old  age. — M.]  ' 


40  LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON        [1778 

There  is  a  serene,  solemn,  placid  old  age.  Johnson  : 
'Mrs.  Thrale's  mother  said  of  me  what  flattered  me 
much.  A  clergyman  was  complaining  of  want  of 
society  in  the  country  where  he  lived,  and  said,  "  They 
talk  of  runts  "  (that  is,  young  cows).^  "  Sir  (said  Mrs. 
Salushury),  Mr.  Johnson  would  learn  to  talk  of  runts" : 
meaning  that  I  was  a  man  who  would  make  the  most 
of  my  situation,  whatever  it  was.'  He  added,  '  I  think 
myself  a  very  polite  man.' 

On  Saturday,  May  2, 1  dined  with  him  at  Sir  Joshua 
Reynolds's,  where  there  was  a  very  large  company,  and 
a  great  deal  of  conversation ;  but  owing  to  some  circum- 
stances which  I  cannot  now  recollect,  I  have  no  record 
of  any  part  of  it,  except  that  there  were  several  people 
there  by  no  means  of  the  Johnsonian  school ;  so  that 
less  attention  was  paid  to  him  than  usual,  which  put 
him  out  of  humour  ;  and  upon  some  imaginary  offence 
from  me,  he  attacked  me  with  such  rudeness,  that  I 
was  vexed  and  angry,  because  it  gave  those  persons 
an  opportunity  of  enlarging  upon  his  supposed  ferocity, 
and  ill  treatment  of  his  best  friends.  I  was  so  much 
hurt,  and  had  my  pride  so  much  roused,  that  I  kept 
away  from  him  for  a  week ;  and,  perhaps,  might  have 
kept  away  much  longer,  nay,  gone  to  Scotland  without 
seeing  him  again,  had  not  we  fortunately  met  and  been 
reconciled.  To  such  unhappy  chances  are  human 
friendships  liable. 

On  Friday,  May  8,  I  dined  with  him  at  Mr.  Lang- 

1  [Such  is  the  signification  of  this  word  in  Scotland,  and,  it  should 
seem,  in  Wales.  (See  Skinner  in  v.)  But  the  heifers  of  Scotland  and 
Wales,  when  brought  to  England,  being  always  smaller  than  those  of 
this  country,  the  word  runt  has  acquired  a  secondary  sense,  and  generally 
signifies  a  heifer  diminutive  in  size,  small  beyond  the  ordinary  growth  of 
that  animal ;  and  in  this  sense  alone  the  word  is  acknowledged  by  Dr. 
Johnson  in  his  Dictionary. — M.] 


iET.69]    LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON  41 

ton's,  I  was  reserved  and  silent,  which  I  suppose  he 
perceived,  and  might  recollect  the  cause.  After 
dinner,  when  Mr.  Langton  was  called  out  of  the  room, 
and  we  were  by  ourselves,  he  drew  his  chair  near  to 
mine,  and  said,  in  a  tone  of  conciliating  courtesy, 
'  Well,  how  have  you  done .'' '  Boswell  :  '  Sir,  you 
have  made  me  very  uneasy  by  your  behaviour  to  me 
when  we  were  last  at  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds's.  You 
know,  my  dear  sir,  no  man  has  a  greater  respect  and 
aifection  for  you,  or  would  sooner  go  to  the  end  of 

the  world  to  serve  you.     Now,  to  treat  me  so ' 

He  insisted  that  I  had  interrupted  him,  which  I  assured 
him  was  not  the  case  ;  and  proceeded — '  But  why  treat 
me  so  before  people  who  neither  love  you  nor  me?' 
Johnson  :  '  Well,  I  am  sorry  for  it.  I  '11  make  it  up 
to  you  twenty  different  ways,  as  you  please.'  Boswell  : 
*  I  said  to-day  to  Sir  Joshua,  when  he  observed  that 
you  tossed  me  sometimes — I  don't  care  how  often,  or 
how  high  he  tosses  me,  when  only  friends  are  present, 
for  then  I  fall  upon  soft  ground  ;  but  I  do  not  like 
falling  on  stones,  which  is  the  case  when  enemies  are 
present.  I  think  this  is  a  pretty  good  image,  sir.' 
Johnson  :  '  Sir,  it  is  one  of  the  happiest  I  have  ever 
heard.' 

The  truth  is,  there  was  no  venom  in  the  wounds 
which  he  inflicted  at  any  time,  unless  they  were  irri- 
tated by  some  malignant  infusion  by  other  hands. 
We  were  instantly  as  cordial  again  as  ever,  and  joined 
in  hearty  laugh  at  some  ludicrous  but  innocent 
peculiarities  of  one  of  our  friends.  Boswell  :  '  Do 
you  think,  sir,  it  is  always  culpable  to  laugh  at  a  man 
to  his  face  } '  Johnson  :  '  Why,  sir,  that  depends  upon 
the  man  and  the  thing.     If  it  is  a  slight  man,  and  a 


42  LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1778 

slight  thing,  you  may ;  for  you  take  nothing  valuable 
from  him.' 

He  said,  'I  read  yesterday  Dr.  Blair's  sermon  on 
Devotion,  from  the  text,  "  Cornelius,  a  devout  man." 
His  doctrine  is  the  best  limited,  the  best  expressed ; 
there  is  the  most  warmth  without  fanaticism,  the  most 
rational  transport.  There  is  one  part  of  it  which  I 
disapprove,  and  I  'd  have  him  correct  it ;  which  is, 
that  "  he  who  does  not  feel  joy  in  religion  is  far  from 
the  kingdom  of  heaven  !  "  There  are  many  good  men 
whose  fear  of  God  predominates  over  their  love.  It 
may  discourage.  It  was  rashly  said.  A  noble  sermon 
it  is  indeed.  I  wish  Blair  would  come  over  to  the 
Church  of  England.' 

When  Mr.  Langton  returned  to  us,  the  'flow  of 
talk'  went  on.  An  eminent  author  being  mentioned 
— Johnson  :  '  He  is  not  a  pleasant  man.  His  conver- 
sation is  neither  instructive  nor  brilliant.  He  does  not 
talk  as  if  impelled  by  any  fulness  of  knowledge  or 
vivacity  of  imagination.  His  conversation  is  like 
that  of  any  other  sensible  man.  He  talks  with  no 
wish  either  to  inform  or  to  hear,  but  only  because  he 

thinks  it  does  not  become to  sit  in  a  company 

and  say  nothing.' 

Mr.  Langton  having  repeated  the  anecdote  of 
Addison  having  distinguished  between  his  powers 
in  conversation  and  in  writing  by  saying,  'I  have 
only  ninepence  in  my  pocket;  but  I  can  draw  for 
a  thousand  pounds ' — Johnson  :  '  He  had  not  that 
retort  ready,  sir;  he  had  prepared  it  beforehand.* 
Langton  (turning  to  me) :  '  A  fine  surmise.  Set  a 
thief  to  catch  a  thief.' 

Johnson  called  the  East  Indians  barbarians.     Bos- 


iET.  69]    LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON  43 

WELL :  '  You  will  except  the  Chinese,  sir  ? '  Johnson  : 
'No,  sir.'  BoswELL :  'Have  they  not  arts?'  John- 
son: 'They  have  pottery.'  Boswell:  'What  do 
you  say  to  the  written  characters  of  their  language .''  * 
Johnson  :  '  Sir,  they  have  not  an  alphabet.  They 
have  not  been  able  to  form  what  all  other  nations  have 
formed.'  Boswell:  ' There  is  more  learning  in  their 
language  than  in  any  other,  from  the  immense  number 
of  their  characters. '  Johnson  :  '  It  is  only  more  diffi- 
cult from  its  rudeness  ;  as  there  is  more  labour  in 
hewing  down  a  tree  with  a  stone  than  with  an  axe.' 

He  said,  '  I  have  been  reading  Lord  Kames's  Sketches 
of  the  History  of  Man.  In  treating  of  severity  of 
punishment,  he  mentions  that  of  Madame  Lapouchin, 
in  Russia,  but  he  does  not  give  it  fairly ;  for  I  have 
looked  at  Chappe  d'Auteroche,  from  whom  he  has 
taken  it.  He  stops  where  it  is  said  that  the  spectators 
thought  her  innocent,  and  leaves  out  what  follows ; 
that  she  nevertheless  was  guilty.  Now  this  is  being 
as  culpable  as  one  can  conceive,  to  misrepresent  fact 
in  a  book,  and  for  what  motive?  It  is  like  one  of 
those  lies  which  people  tell,  one  cannot  see  why.  The 
woman's  life  was  spared  ;  and  no  punishment  was  too 
great  for  the  favourite  of  an  Empress,  who  had  con- 
spired to  dethrone  her  mistress.'  Boswell  :  'He  was 
only  giving  a  picture  of  the  lady  in  her  sufferings.' 
Johnson  :  '  Nay,  don't  endeavour  to  palliate  this. 
Guilt  is  a  principal  feature  in  the  picture.  Kames  is 
puzzled  with  a  question  that  puzzled  me  when  I  was  a 
very  young  man.  Why  is  it  that  tiie  interest  of  money 
is  lower  when  money  is  plentiful ;  for  five  pounds  has 
the  same  proportion  of  value  to  a  hundred  pounds 
when  money  is  plentiful  as  when  it  is  scarce  ?    A  lady 


44  LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON        [1778 

explained  it  to  me.  "  It  is  (said  she)  because  when 
money  is  plentiful  there  are  so  many  more  who  have 
money  to  lend,  that  they  bid  down  one  another. 
Many  have  then  a  hundred  pounds ;  and  one  says, — 
Take  mine  rather  than  another's,  and  you  shall  have 
it  at  four  per  cent."'  Bosweix  :  '  Does  Lord  Kames 
decide  the  question  .f* '  Johnson  :  *  I  think  he  leaves 
it  as  he  found  it.'  Boswell:  'This  must  have  been 
an  extraordinary  lady  who  instructed  you,  sir.  May 
I  ask  who  she  was  ? '  Johnson  :  '  Molly  Aston,^  sir, 
the  sister  of  those  ladies  with  whom  you  dined  at 
Lichfield. — I  shall  be  at  home  to-morrow.'  Bosweix  : 
*  Then  let  us  dine  by  ourselves  at  the  Mitre,  to  keep 
up  the  old  custom,  "  the  custom  of  the  manor,"  custom 
of  the  Mitre.'     Johnson:  'So  it  shall  be.' 

On  Saturday,  May  9,  we  fulfilled  our  purpose  of 
dining  by  ourselves  at  the  Mitre,  according  to  old 
custom.  There  was,  on  these  occasions,  a  little  cir- 
cumstance of  kind  attention  to  Mrs.  Williams,  which 

1  Johnson  had  an  extraordinary  admiration  for  this  lady,  notwith- 
standing she  was  a  violent  Whig.  In  answer  to  her  high-flown 
speeches  for  Liberty,  he  addressed  to  her  the  following  epigram, 
of  which  I  presume  to  offer  a  translation  : 

'  Liher  ut  esse  velim,  suasisti,  pulcra  Maria 
Ut  maneam  liber,  pulcra  Maria,  vale." 

(Adieu,  Maria !  since  you  'd  have  me  free ; 
For  who  beholds  thy  charms  a  slave  must  be.) 

A  correspondent  of  the  Gentleman's  Magazine,  who  subscribes  him- 
self Sciolus,  to  whom  I  am  indebted  for  several  excellent  remarks, 
observes,  '  The  turn  of  Dr.  Johnson's  lines  to  Miss  Aston,  whose  Whig 
principles  he  had  been  combating,  appears  to  me  to  be  taken  from  an 
ingenious  epigram  in  the  Menagiana  (vol.  iii.  p.  376,  edit.  1716),  on  a 
young  lady  who  appeared  at  a  masquerade,  habille  en  Jesuite,  during 
the  fierce  contentions  of  the  followers  of  Molinos  and  Jansenius  con- 
cerning free-will  : 

'  On  s'etonne  ici  que  Caliste, 
Ait  pris  I'habit  de  Moliniste. 
Puisque  cette  jeune  beaute 
Ote  a  chacun  sa  liberty 
N'est  ce  pas  une  Janseniste  ? ' 


^T.  69]    LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  45 

must  not  be  omitted.  Before  coming  out^  and  leaving 
her  to  dine  alone,  he  gave  her  her  choice  of  a  chicken, 
a  sweetbread,  or  any  other  little  nice  thing,  which 
was  carefully  sent  to  her  from  the  tavern,  ready 
dressed. 

Our  conversation  to-day,  I  know  not  how,  turned, 
I  think  for  the  only  time  at  any  length  during  our 
long  acquaintance,  upon  the  sensual  intercourse  be- 
tween the  sexes,  the  delight  of  which  he  ascribed 
chiefly  to  imagination.  '  Were  it  not  for  imagination, 
sir  (said  he),  a  man  would  be  as  happy  in  the  arms 
of  a  chambermaid  as  of  a  duchess.  But  such  is  the 
adventitious  charm  of  fancy,  that  we  find  men  who 
have  violated  the  best  principles  of  society,  and  ruined 
their  fame  and  their  fortune,  that  they  might  possess 
a  woman  of  rank.'  It  would  not  be  proper  to  record 
the  particulars  of  such  a  conversation  in  moments 
of  unreserved  frankness,  when  nobody  was  present  oa 
whom  it  could  have  any  hurtful  effect.  That  subject, 
when  philosophically  treated,  may  surely  employ  the 
mind  in  a  curious  discussion,  and  as  innocently  as 
anatomy ;  provided  that  those  who  do  treat  it  keep 
clear  of  inflammatory  incentives. 

'From  grave  to  gay,  from  lively  to  severe,' — we 
were  soon  engaged  in  very  different  speculation ; 
humbly  and  reverently  considering  and  wondering 
at  the  universal  mystery  of  all  things,  as  our  im- 
perfect faculties  can  now  judge  of  them.  'There  are 
(said  he)  innumerable  questions  to  which  the  inquisi- 
tive mind  can  in  this  state  receive  no  answer :  Why 
do  you  and  I  exist?  Why  was  this  world  created? 
Since  it  was  to  be  created,  why  was  it  not  created 
sooner  ? ' 


46  LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1778 

On  Sunday,  May  10,  I  supped  with  him  at  Mr. 
Hoole's,  with  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds.  I  have  neglected 
the  memorial  of  this  evening,  so  as  to  remember  no 
more  of  it  than  two  particulars;  one  that  he  strenuously 
opposed  an  argument  by  Sir  Joshua,  that  virtue  was 
preferable  to  vice,  considering  this  life  only ;  and  that 
a  man  would  be  virtuous  were  it  only  to  preserve  his 
character  :  and  that  he  expressed  much  wonder  at  the 
curious  formation  of  the  bat,  a  mouse  with  wings ; 
saying  that  it  was  almost  as  strange  a  thing  in 
physiology  as  if  the  fabulous  dragon  could  be  seen. 

On  Tuesday,  May  12,  I  waited  on  the  Earl  of 
Marchmont,  to  know  if  his  Lordship  would  favour 
Dr.  Johnson  with  information  concerning  Pope, 
whose  life  he  was  about  to  write.  Johnson  had  not 
flattered  himself  with  the  hopes  of  receiving  any 
civility  from  this  nobleman ;  for  he  said  to  me,  when 
I  mentioned  Lord  Marchmont  as  one  who  could  tell 
him  a  great  deal  about  Pope,  'Sir,  he  will  tell  me 
nothing.'  I  had  the  honour  of  being  known  to  his 
Lordship,  and  applied  to  him  of  myself,  without 
being  commissioned  by  Johnson.  His  Lordship  be- 
haved in  the  most  polite  and  obliging  manner, 
promised  to  tell  all  he  recollected  about  Pope,  and 
.was  so  very  courteous  as  to  say,  '  Tell  Dr.  Johnson  I 
have  a  great  respect  for  him,  and  am  ready  to  show  it 
in  any  way  I  can.  I  am  to  be  in  the  city  to-morrow, 
and  will  call  at  his  house  as  I  return.'  His  Lordship 
however  asked,  '  Will  he  write  the  Lives  of  the  Poets 
impartially .''  He  was  the  first  that  brought  Whig  and 
Tory  into  a  dictionary.  And  what  do  you  think  of 
his  definition  of  Excise .''  Do  you  know  the  history  of 
his  aversion  to  the  word  transpire}'    Then  taking 


^T.  69]     LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON  47 

down  the  folio  dictionary,  he  showed  it  with  this 
censure  on  its  secondary  sense :  ' ''  To  escape  from 
secrecy  to  notice ;  a  sense  lately  innovated  from 
France,  without  necessity."  The  truth  was.  Lord 
Bolingbroke,  who  left  the  Jacobites,  first  used  it; 
therefore  it  was  to  be  condemned.  He  should  have 
shown  what  word  would  do  for  it,  if  it  was  unneces- 
sary.' I  afterwards  put  the  question  to  Johnson : 
*  Why,  sir  (said  he),  get  abroad.'  Boswell:  'That,  sir, 
is  using  two  words.'  Johnson  :  *Sir,  there  is  no  end 
of  this.  You  may  as  well  insist  to  have  a  word  for 
old  age.  Boswell;  'Well,  sir,  senectus.'  Johnson: 
*Nay,  sir,  to  insist  always  that  there  should  be  one 
word  to  express  a  thing  in  English,  because  there 
is  one  in  another  language,  is  to  change  the 
language.' 

I  availed  myself  of  this  opportunity  to  hear  from 
his  Lordship  many  particulars  both  of  Pope  and  Lord 
Bolingbroke,  which  I  have  in  writing. 

I  proposed  to  Lord  Marchmont  that  he  should 
revise  Johnson's  Life  of  Pope.  '  So  (said  his  Lord- 
ship), you  would  put  me  in  a  dangerous  situation. 
You  know  he  knocked  down  Osborne,  the  bookseller.' 

Elated  with  the  success  of  my  spontaneous  exertion 
to  procure  material  and  respectable  aid  to  Johnson 
for  his  very  favourite  work,  the  Lives  of  the  Poets,  I 
hastened  down  to  Mr.  Thrale's  at  Streatham,  where  he 
now  was,  that  I  might  ensure  his  being  at  home  next 
day;  and  after  dinner,  when  I  thought  he  would  receive 
the  good  news  in  the  best  humour,  I  announced  it 
eagerly :  '  I  have  been  at  work  for  you  to-day,  sir.  I 
have  been  with  Lord  Marchmont  He  bade  me  tell 
you  he  has  a  great  respect  for  you,  and  will  call  on  you 


48  LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1778 

to-morrow  at  one  o'clock^  and  communicate  all  he 
knows  about  Pope.'  Here  I  paused,  in  full  expecta- 
tion that  he  would  be  pleased  with  this  intelligence, 
would  praise  my  active  merit^  and  would  be  alert  to 
embrace  such  an  offer  from  a  nobleman.  But  whether 
I  had  shown  an  over-exultation,  which  provoked  his 
spleen ;  or  whether  he  was  seized  with  a  suspicion 
that  I  had  obtruded  him  on  Lord  Marchmont,  and 
humbled  him  too  much ;  or  whether  there  was  any- 
thing more  than  an  unlucky  fit  of  ill-humour,  I  know 
not ;  but,  to  my  surprise,  the  result  was, — Johnson  : 
'I  shall  not  be  in  town  to-morrow.  I  don't  care  to 
know  about  Pope.'  Mrs.  Thbale  (surprised  as  I  was, 
and  a  little  angry) :  '  I  suppose,  sir,  Mr.  Boswell 
thought,  that  as  you  are  to  write  Pope's  Life,  you 
would  wish  to  know  about  him.'  Johnson:  'Wish! 
why  yes.  If  it  rained  knowledge,  I'd  hold  out  my 
hand ;  but  I  would  not  give  myself  the  trouble  to  go 
in  quest  of  it.'  There  was  no  arguing  with  him  at 
the  moment.  Some  time  afterwards  he  said,  'Lord 
Marchmont  will  call  on  me,  and  then  I  shall  call  on 
Lord  Marchmont.'  Mrs.  Thrale  was  uneasy  at  his 
unaccountable  caprice  ;  and  told  me,  that  if  I  did  not 
take  care  to  bring  about  a  meeting  between  Lord 
Marchmont  and  him,  it  would  never  take  place,  which 
would  be  a  great  pity.  I  sent  a  card  to  his  Lordship, 
to  be  left  at  Johnson's  house,  acquainting  him  that 
Dr.  Johnson  could  not  be  in  town  next  day,  but  would 
do  himself  the  honour  of  waiting  on  him  at  another 
time.  I  give  this  account  fairly,  as  a  specimen  of  that 
unhappy  temper  with  which  this  great  and  good  man 
had  occasionally  to  struggle,  from  something  morbid 
in  his  constitution.     Let  the  most  censorious  of  my 


>ET.  69]    LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  49 

readers  suppose  himself  to  have  a  violent  fit  of  the 
toothache,  or  to  have  received  a  severe  stroke  on  the 
shin-bone,  and  when  in  such  a  state  to  be  asked  a 
question ;  and  if  he  has  any  candour  he  will  not  be 
surprised  at  the  answers  which  Johnson  sometimes 
gave  in  moments  of  irritation,  which,  let  me  assure 
them,  is  exquisitely  painful.  But  it  must  not  be 
erroneously  supposed  that  he  was,  in  the  smallest 
degree,  careless  concerning  any  work  which  he  under- 
took, or  that  he  was  generally  thus  peevish.  It  will 
be  seen  that  in  the  following  year  he  had  a  very 
agreeable  interview  with  Lord  Marchmont,  at  his 
Lordship's  house  ;  and  this  very  afternoon  he  soon 
forgot  any  fretfulness,  and  fell  into  conversation  as 
usual. 

I  mentioned  a  reflection  having  been  thrown  out 
against  four  Peers  for  having  presumed  to  rise  in 
opposition  to  the  opinion  of  the  twelve  judges,  in  a 
cause  in  the  House  of  Lords,  as  if  that  were  indecent. 
Johnson  :  '  Sir,  there  is  no  ground  for  censure.  The 
Peers  are  judges  themselves;  and  supposing  them 
really  to  be  of  a  diflferent  opinion,  they  might  from 
duty  be  in  opposition  to  the  judges,  who  were  there 
only  to  be  consulted.' 

In  this  observation  I  fully  concurred  with  him  ;  for, 
unquestionably,  all  the  Peers  are  vested  with  the 
highest  judicial  powers;  and  when  they  are  confident 
that  they  understand  a  cause,  are  not  obliged,  nay, 
ought  not  to  acquiesce  in  the  opinion  of  the  ordinary 
law  judges,  or  even  in  that  of  those  who,  from  their 
studies  and  experience,  are  called  the  law  lords.  I 
consider  the  Peers  in  general  as  I  do  a  jury,  who 
ought  to  listen  with  respectful  attention  to  the  sages 


60  LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON        [1778 

of  the  law ;  but,  if  after  hearing  them,  they  have  a 
firm  opinion  of  their  own,  are  bound  as  honest  men 
to  decide  accordingly.  Nor  is  it  so  diflBcult  for  them 
to  understand  even  law  questions  as  is  generally 
thought ;  provided  they  will  bestow  sufficient  atten- 
tion upon  them.  This  observation  was  made  by  my 
honoured  relation  to  the  late  Lord  Cathcart,  who  had 
spent  his  life  in  camps  and  courts ;  yet  assured  me, 
that  he  could  form  a  clear  opinion  upon  most  of  the 
causes  that  came  before  the  House  of  Lords,  '  as  they 
were  so  well  enucleated  in  the  cases.' 

Mrs.  Thrale  told  us  that  a  curious  clergyman  of 
our  acquaintance  had  discovered  a  licentious  stanza, 
which  Pope  had  originally  in  his  Universal  Prayer, 
before  the  stanza, 

'  What  conscience  dictates  to  be  done. 
Or  warns  us  not  to  do,'  etc. 

It  was  this : 

'  Can  sins  of  moment  claim  the  rod 

Of  everlasting  fires  ? 
And  that  offend  great  Nature's  God, 
Which  Nature's  self  inspires  ? ' 

and  that  Dr.  Johnson  observed,  '  it  had  been  borrowed 
from  Guarini.'  There  are,  indeed,  in  Pastor  Fido, 
many  such  flimsy,  superficial  reasonings,  as  that  in 
the  last  two  lines  of  this  stanza. 

BoswELL :  *  In  that  stanza  of  Pope's,  '  rod  of  fires ' 
is  certainly  a  bad  metaphor.'  Mrs.  Thrale  :  '  And 
"  sins  of  moment "  is  a  faulty  expression  ;  for  its  true 
import  is  momentous,  which  cannot  be  intended.' 
Johnson  :  '  It  must  have  been  written  "  of  moments." 
Of  moment  is  momentous ;  of  moments,  momentary.     I 


jET.eg]    LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON  51 

warrant  you,  however.  Pope  wrote  this  stanza,  and 
some  friend  struck  it  out.  Boileau  wrote  some  such 
thing,  and  Arnaud  struck  it  out,  saying,  "  Vous  gagnerez 
deux  ou  trots  impies,  et  perdrez  je  ne  sais  combien  des 
honnetes  gens."  These  fellows  want  to  say  a  daring 
thing,  and  don't  know  how  to  go  about  it.    Mere  poets 

know  no  more   of  fundamental  principles  than ' 

Here  he  was  interrupted  somehow.  Mrs.  Thrale 
mentioned  Dryden.  Johnson  :  '  He  puzzled  himself 
about  predestination.  How  foolish  it  was  in  Pope  to 
give  all  his  friendship  to  Lords  who  thought  they 
honoured  him  by  being  with  him  ;  and  to  choose  such 
Lords  as  Burlington,  and  Cobham,  and  Bolingbroke  .^ 
Bathurst  was  negative,  a  pleasing  man ;  and  I  have 
heard  no  ill  of  Marchmont ; — and  then  always  saying, 
"  I  do  not  value  you  for  being  a  Lord  "  ;  which  was  a 
sure  proof  that  he  did.  I  never  say  I  do  not  value 
Boswell  more  for  being  born  to  an  estate,  because  I 
do  not  care.'  Boswell:  '  Nor  for  being  a  Scotchman  ?  * 
Johnson  :  *  Nay,  sir,  I  do  value  you  more  for  being 
a  Scotchman.  You  are  a  Scotchman  without  the 
faults  of  Scotchmen.  You  would  not  have  been  so 
valuable  as  you  are  had  you  not  been  a  Scotchman.* 

Talking  of  divorces,  I  asked  if  Othello's  doctrine 
was  not  plausible ; 

'  He  that  is  robb'd,  not  wanting  what  is  stolen. 
Let  him  not  know 't,  and  he  'a  not  robb'd  at  all.' 

Dr.  Johnson  and  Mrs.  Thrale  joined  against  this. 
Johnson  :  '  Ask  any  man  if  he  'd  wish  not  to  know  of 
such  an  injury.'  Boswell:  *  Would  you  tell  your 
friend  to  make  him  unhappy  ? '  Johnson  :  *  Perhaps, 
sir,  I  should  not;  but  that  would  be  from  prudence 


62  LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1778 

on  my  own  account.  A  man  would  tell  Ms  father.' 
BoswELL :  '  Yes ;  because  he  would  not  have  spurious 
children  to  get  any  share  of  the  family  inheritance.' 
Mrs.  Thrale:  'Or  he  would  tell  his  brother.' 
Boswell:  'Certainly,  his  elder  brother.'  Johnson: 
'  You  would  tell  your  friend  of  a  woman's  infamy,  to 
prevent  his  marrying  a  whore  :  there  is  the  same  reason 
to  tell  him  of  his  wife's  infidelity,  when  he  is  married, 
to  prevent  the  consequences  of  imposition.  It  is  a 
breach  of  confidence  not  to  tell  a  friend.'     Boswell  : 

'Would  you  tell  IMr.  }'  (naming  a  gentleman 

who  assuredly  was  not  in  the  least  danger  of  such  a 
miserable  disgrace,  though  married  to  a  fine  woman). 
Johnson  :  '  No,  sir ;  because  it  would  do  no  good  :  he 
is  so  sluggish,  he'd  never  go  to  Parliament  and  get 
through  a  divorce.' 

He  said  of  one  of  our  friends,  '  He  is  ruining  himself 
without  pleasure.  A  man  who  loses  at  play,  or  who 
runs  out  his  fortune  at  court,  makes  his  estate  less,  in 
hopes  of  making  it  bigger  (I  am  sure  of  this  word, 
which  was  often  used  by  him) ;  but  it  is  a  sad  thing  to 
pass  through  the  quagmire  of  parsimony,  to  the  gulf 
of  ruin.  To  pass  over  the  flowery  path  of  extravagance 
is  very  well. ' 

Amongst  the  numerous  prints  pasted  on  the  walls 
of  the  dining-room  at  Streatham,  was  Hogarth's 
'Modern  Midnight  Conversation.'  I  asked  him  what 
he  knew  of  Parson  Ford,  who  makes  a  conspicuous 
figure  in  the  riotous  group.  Johnson  :  '  Sir,  he  was 
my  acquaintance  and  relation,  my  mother's  nephew. 
He  had  purchased  a  living  in  the  country,  but  not 
simoniacally.  I  never  saw  him  but  in  the  country.  I 
have  been  told  he  was  a  man  of  great  parts  ;  very  pro- 


iET.  69]    LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  63 

fligate,  but  I  never  heard  he  was  impious.'  Bos  well  : 
'  Was  there  not  a  story  of  his  ghost  having  appeared  ? ' 
Johnson  :  '  Sir,  it  was  believed.  A  waiter  at  the 
Hummums,  in  which  house  Ford  died,  had  been  absent 
for  some  time,  and  returned,  not  knowing  that  Ford 
was  dead.  Going  down  to  the  cellar,  according  to  the 
story,  he  met  him  ;  going  down  again,  he  met  him  a 
second  time.  When  he  came  up,  he  asked  some  of 
the  people  of  the  house  what  Ford  could  be  doing 
there.  They  told  him  Ford  was  dead.  The  waiter 
took  a  fever,  in  which  he  lay  for  some  time.  When  he 
recovered  he  said  he  had  a  message  to  deliver  to  some 
women  from  Ford ;  but  he  was  not  to  tell  what,  or  to 
whom.  He  walked  out ;  he  was  followed ;  but  some- 
where about  St.  Paul's  they  lost  him.  He  came  back, 
and  said  he  had  delivered  the  message,  and  the  women 
exclaimed,  "  Then  we  are  all  undone  ! "  Dr.  Pellet, 
who  was  not  a  credulous  man,  inquired  into  the  truth 
of  this  story,  and  he  said  the  evidence  was  irresistible. 
My  wife  went  to  the  Hummums  (it  is  a  place  where 
people  get  themselves  cupped).  I  believe  she  went 
with  intention  to  hear  about  this  story  of  Ford.  At 
first  they  were  unwilling  to  tell  her ;  but  after  they 
had  talked  to  her,  she  came  away  satisfied  that  it  was 
true.  To  be  sure  the  man  had  a  fever ;  and  this  vision 
may  have  been  the  beginning  of  it.  But  if  the  message 
to  the  women,  and  their  behaviour  upon  it,  were  true, 
as  related,  there  was  something  supernatural.  That 
rests  upon  his  word  ;  and  thex-e  it  remains.' 

After  Mrs.  Thrale  was  gone  to  bed,  Johnson  and  I 
sat  up  late.  We  resumed  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds's  argu- 
ment on  the  preceding  Sunday,  that  a  man  would  be 
virtuous,  though  he  had  no  other  motive  than  to 


54  LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1778 

preserve  his  character.  Johnson  :  '  Sir,  it  is  not  true ; 
for,  as  to  this  world,  vice  does  not  hurt  a  man's 
character.'  Boswell  :  '  Yes,  sir,  debauching  a  friend's 
wife  will.'      Johnson:    'No,  sir.      Who  thinks  the 

worse  of ^  for  it  ? '     Boswell  :  '  Lord ^  was 

not  his  friend.'  Johnson:  'That  is  only  a  circum- 
stance, sir,  a  slight  distinction.     He  could  not  get 

into  the  house  but  by  Lord .     A  man  is  chosen 

knight  of  the  shire,  not  the  less  for  having  debauched 
ladies.'  Bosweix:  'What,  sir,  if  he  debauched  the 
ladies  of  gentlemen  in  the  county,  wUl  not  there  be  a 
general  resentment  against  him  "i '  Johnson  :  '  No, 
sir.  He  will  lose  those  particular  gentlemen ;  but  the 
rest  will  not  trouble  their  heads  about  it '  (warmly). 
Boswell:  'Well,  sir,  I  cannot  think  so.'  Johnson: 
'Nay,  sir,  there  is  no  talking  with  a  man  who  will 
dispute  what  everybody  knows  (angrily).  Don't  you 
know  this  ? '  Boswell  :  '  No,  sir ;  and  I  wish  to  think 
better  of  your  country  than  you  represent  it.  I  knew 
in  Scotland  a  gentleman  obliged  to  leave  it  for  de- 
bauching a  lady ;  and  in  one  of  our  counties  an  Earl's 
brother  lost  his  election,  because  he  had  debauched 
the  lady  of  another  Earl  in  that  county,  and  destroyed 
the  peace  of  a  noble  family. ' 

Still  he  would  not  yield.  He  proceeded :  '  Will 
you  not  allow,  sir,  that  vice  does  not  hurt  a  man's 
character  so  as  to  obstruct  his  prosperity  in  life,  when 

you  know  that  *  was  loaded  with   wealth  and 

honours ;  a  man  who  had  acquired  his  fortune  by  such 
crimes,  that  his  consciousness  of  them  impelled  him  to 
cut  his  own  throat.'     Boswell:  'You  will  recollect, 

1  IBeauclerk.— A.  B.]  2  [Bolingbroke.— A.  B.] 

3  [Lord  CKve.— A.  B.] 


JET.  eg]    LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON  65 

sir,  that  Dr.  Robertson  said,  he  cut  his  throat  because 
he  was  weary  of  still  life  ;  little  things  not  being 
suflScient  to  move  his  great  mind.'  Johnson  (very 
angry) :  '  Nay,  sir,  what  stuff  is  this }  You  had  no 
more  this  opinion  after  Robertson  said  it,  than  before. 
I  know  nothing  more  offensive  than  repeating  what 
one  knows  to  be  foolish  things,  by  way  of  continuing 
a  dispute,  to  see  what  a  man  will  answer, — to  make 
him  your  butt ! '  (angrier  still.)  Boswell  :  '  My  dear 
sir,  I  had  no  such  intention  as  you  seem  to  suspect : 
I  had  not,  indeed.  Might  not  this  nobleman  have 
felt  everything  ''  weary,  stale,  flat,  and  unprofitable," 
as  Hamlet  says  ? '  Johnson  :  '  Nay,  if  you  are  to 
bring  in  gabble,  I  '11  talk  no  more.  I  wUl  not,  upon 
my  honour.'     My  readers  will  decide  upon  this  dispute. 

Next  morning  I  stated  to  Mrs.  Thrale  at  breakfast, 
before  he  came  down,  the  dispute  of  last  night  as  to 
the  influence  of  character  upon  success  in  life.  She 
said  he  was  certainly  wrong ;  and  told  me  that  a 
baronet  lost  an  election  in  Wales,  because  he  had 
debauched  the  sister  of  a  gentleman  in  the  country, 
whom  he  made  one  of  his  daughters  invite  as  her 
companion  at  his  seat  in  the  country,  when  his  lady 
and  his  other  children  were  in  London.  But  she 
would  not  encounter  Johnson  upon  the  subject. 

I  stayed  all  this  day  with  him  at  Streatham.  He 
talked  a  great  deal  in  very  good  humour. 

Looking  at  Messrs.  Dilly's  splendid  edition  of  Lord 
Chesterfield's  Miscellaneous  Works,  he  laughed,  and 
said,  'Here  are  now  two  speeches  ascribed  to  him, 
both  of  which  were  written  by  me  :  and  the  best  of  it 
is,  they  have  found  out  that  one  is  like  Demosthenes, 
and  the  other  like  Cicero.' 


56  LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON        [1778 

He  censured  Lord  Karnes'  Sketches  of  the  History  of 
Man  for  misrepresenting  Clarendon's  account  of  the 
appearance  of  Sir  George  Villiers'  ghost,  as  if  Claren- 
don were  weakly  credulous ;  when  the  truth  is,  that 
Clarendon  only  says  that  the  story  was  upon  a  better 
foundation  of  credit  than  usually  such  discourses  are 
founded  upon ;  nay,  speaks  thus  of  the  person  who 
was  reported  to  have  seen  the  vision,  '  the  poor  man, 
if  he  had  been  at  all  waking,'  which  Lord  Karnes  has 
omitted.  He  added,  'In  this  book  it  is  maintained 
that  virtue  is  natural  to  man,  and  that  if  we  would 
but  consult  our  own  hearts  we  should  be  virtuous. 
Now,  after  consulting  our  own  hearts  all  we  can,  and 
with  all  the  helps  we  have,  we  find  how  few  of  us  are 
virtuous.  This  is  saying  a  thing  which  all  mankind 
know  not  to  be  true.'  Boswell  :  '  Is  not  modesty 
natural .'' '  Johnson  :  '  I  cannot  say,  sir,  as  we  find 
no  people  quite  in  a  state  of  nature ;  but  I  think  the 
more  they  are  taught  the  more  modest  they  are.  The 
French  are  a  gross,  ill-bred,  untaught  people  ;  a  lady 
there  will  spit  on  the  floor  and  rub  it  with  her  foot. 
What  I  gained  by  being  in  France  was  learning  to  be 
better  satisfied  with  my  own  country.  Time  may  be 
employed  to  more  advantage  from  nineteen  to  twenty- 
four,  almost  in  any  way  than  in  travelling ;  when  you 
set  travelling  against  mere  negation,  against  doing 
nothing,  it  is  better  to  be  sure ;  but  how  much  more 
would  a  young  man  improve  were  he  to  study  during 
those  years.  Indeed,  if  a  young  man  is  wild,  and 
must  run  after  women  and  bad  company,  it  is  better 
this  should  be  done  abroad,  as,  on  his  return,  he  can 
break  off  such  connections,  and  begin  at  home  a  new 
man,  with  a  character  to  form,  and  acquaintances  to 


jET.eg]    LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON  67 

make.  How  little  does  travelling  supply  to  the  con- 
versation of  any  man  who  has  travelled ;  how  little 
to  Beauclerk  .•* '      Bosweix  :  '  What  say  you  to  Lord 

?'    Johnson:  'I  never  but  once  heard  him  talk 

of  what  he  had  seen,  and  that  was  of  a  large  serpent 
in  one  of  the  pyramids  of  Egypt.'  Boswell  :  'Well, 
I  happened  to  hear  him  tell  the  same  thing,  which 
made  me  mention  him.'^ 

I  talked  of  a  country  life.  Johnson  :  '  Were  I  to 
live  in  the  country,  I  would  not  devote  myself  to  the 
acquisition  of  popularity  ;  I  would  live  in  a  much 
better  way,  much  more  happily ;  I  would  have  my 
time  at  my  own  command.'  Boswell  :  'But,  sir,  is 
it  not  a  sad  thing  to  be  at  a  distance  from  all  our 
literary  friends  ? '  Johnson  :  '  Sir,  you  will  by-and-by 
have  enough  of  this  conversation  which  now  delights 
you  so  much.' 

As  he  was  a  zealous  friend  of  subordination,  he  was 
at  all  times  watchful  to  repress  the  vulgar  cant  against 
the  manners  of  the  great :  '  High  people,  sir  (said  he), 
are  the  best ;  take  a  hundred  ladies  of  quality,  you  '11 
find  them  better  wives,  better  mothers,  more  willing 
to  sacrifice  their  own  pleasure  to  their  children,  than 
a  hundred  other  women.  Tradeswomen  (I  mean  the 
wives  of  tradesmen)  in  the  city,  who  are  worth  from 
£10,000  to  £15,000,  are  the  worst  creatures  upon  the 
earth,  grossly  ignorant,  and  thinking  viciousness 
fashionable.  Farmers,  I  think,  are  often  worthless 
fellows.  Few  lords  will  cheat ;  and  if  they  do  they'll 
be  ashamed  of  it :  farmers  cheat  and  are  not  ashamed 
of  it :  they  have  all  the   sensual  vices,  too,    of  the 

j  [Lord  Charlemont,  who,  according  to  Croker,  nsed  to  bore  his 
friends  with  this  story  until  bis  last  gasp. — A.  B.] 


58  LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON        [1778 

nobility,  with  cheating  into  the  bargain.  There  is  as 
much  fornication  and  adultery  amongst  farmers  as 
amongst  noblemen.'  Boswell:  'The  notion  of  the 
world,  sir,  however,  is,  that  the  morals  of  women 
of  quality  are  worse  than  those  in  lower  stations.* 
Johnson  :  *  Yes,  sir,  the  licentiousness  of  one  woman 
of  quality  makes  more  noise  than  that  of  a  number  of 
women  in  lower  stations ;  then,  sir,  you  are  to  consider 
the  malignity  of  women  in  the  city  against  women  of 
quality,  which  will  make  them  believe  anything  of 
them,  such  as  that  they  call  their  coachmen  to  bed. 
No,  sir,  so  far  as  I  have  observed,  the  higher  in  rank 
the  richer  ladies  are,  they  are  the  better  instructed 
and  the  more  virtuous.' 

This  year  the  Reverend  Mr.  Home  published  his 
Letter  to  Mr.  Dunning,  on  the  English  Particle ;  John- 
son read  it,  and  though  not  treated  in  it  with  sufficient 
respect,  he  had  candour  enough  to  say  to  Mr.  Seward, 
*  Were  I  to  make  a  new  edition  of  my  Dictionary,  I 
would  adopt  several  ^  of  Mr.  Home's  etymologies  ; 
I  hope  they  did  not  put  the  dog  in  the  pillory  for  his 
libel ;  he  has  too  much  literature  for  that.' 

On  Saturday,  May  16,  I  dined  with  him  at  Mr. 
Beauclerk's  with  Mr.  Langton,  Mr.  Steevens,  Dr. 
Higgins,  and  some  others.  I  regret  very  feelingly 
every  instance  of  my  remissness  in  recording  his 
memorabilia ;  I  am  afraid  it  is  the  condition  of 
humanity  (as  Mr.   Windham,  of  Norfolk,  once  ob- 


1  In  Mr.  Home  Tooke's  enlargement  of  that  Letter,  which  he  has 
since  published  with  the  title  of  'En-ea  nrepoevTa;  or,  the  Diversions  of 
Purley,  he  mentions  this  compliment  as  if  Dr.  Johnson,  instead  of 
several  of  his  etymologies,  had  said  all.  His  recollection  having  thus 
magnified  it,  shows  bow  ambitious  he  was  of  the  approbation  of  so  jfreat 


;et.  69]    LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  69 

served  to  me,  after  having  made  an  admirable  speech 
in  the  House  of  Commons,  which  was  highly  applauded, 
but  which  he  afterwards  perceived  might  have  been 
better),  'that  we  are  more  uneasy  from  thinking  of 
our  wants,  than  happy  in  thinking  of  our  acquisitions.' 
This  is  an  unreasonable  mode  of  disturbing  our  tran- 
quillity, and  should  be  corrected ;  let  me  then  comfort 
myself  with  the  large  treasure  of  Johnson's  conversa- 
tion which  I  have  preserved  for  my  own  enjoyment 
and  that  of  the  world,  and  let  me  exhibit  what  I  have 
upon  each  occasion,  whether  more  or  less,  whether  a 
bulse,  or  only  a  few  sparks  of  a  diamond. 

He  said,  'Dr.  Mead  lived  more  in  the  broad  sun- 
shine of  life  than  almost  any  man.' 

The  disaster  of  General  Burgoyne's  army  was  then 
the  common  topic  of  conversation.  It  was  asked  why 
piling  their  arms  was  insisted  upon  as  a  matter  of 
such  consequence,  when  it  seemed  to  be  a  circum- 
stance so  inconsiderable  in  itself .-^  Johnson:  'Why, 
sir,  a  French  author  says,  "  By  a  beaucoup  depuerilites 
dans  la  guerre."  All  distinctions  are  trifles,  because 
great  things  can  seldom  occur,  and  those  distinctions 
are  settled  by  custom.  A  savage  would  as  willingly 
have  his  meat  sent  to  him  in  the  kitchen,  as  eat  it 
at  the  table  here :  as  men  become  civilised,  various 
modes  of  denoting  honourable  preference  are  in- 
vented.' 

He  this  day  made  the  observations  upon  the 
similarity  between  Basselaa  and  Candide,  which  I 
have  inserted  in  its  proper  place,  when  considering 
his  admirable  philosophical  romance.  He  said  Can- 
dide he  thought  had  more  power  in  it  than  anything 
that  Voltaire  had  written. 


00  LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON        [1778 

He  said,  *  The  lyrical  part  of  Horace  never  can  be 
perfectly  translated  ;  so  much  of  the  excellence  is  in 
the  numbers  and  the  expression.  Francis  has  done 
it  the  best;  I'll  take  his,  five  out  of  six,  against 
them  all.' 

On  Sunday,  May  17,  I  presented  to  him  Mr.  Ful- 
larton,  of  Fullarton,  who  has  since  distinguished 
himself  so  much  in  India,  to  whom  he  naturally  talked 
of  travels,  as  Mr.  Brydone  accompanied  him  in  his 
tour  to  Sicily  and  Malta.  He  said,  '  The  information 
which  we  have  from  modern  travellers  is  much  more 
authentic  than  what  we  had  from  ancient  travellers ; 
ancient  travellers  guessed ;  modern  travellers  measure. 
The  Swiss  admit  that  there  is  but  one  error  in  Stanyan, 
If  Brydone  were  more  attentive  to  his  Bible  he  would 
be  a  good  traveller. ' 

He  said,  'Lord  Chatham  was  a  Dictator;  he  pos- 
sessed the  power  of  putting  the  State  in  motion ;  now 
there  is  no  power ;  all  order  is  relaxed.'  Boswell  : 
'  Is  there  no  hope  of  a  change  to  the  better  ? '  John- 
son :  '  Why,  yes,  sir,  when  we  are  weary  of  this 
relaxation.  So  the  city  of  London  will  appoint  its 
mayors  again  by  seniority.  Boswell  :  '  But  is  not 
that  taking  a  mere  chance  for  having  a  good  or  a  bad 
mayor?'  Johnson:  'Yes,  sir;  but  the  evil  of  com- 
petition is  greater  than  that  of  the  worst  mayor  that 
can  come ;  besides,  there  is  no  more  reason  to  suppose 
that  the  choice  of  a  rabble  will  be  right,  than  that 
chance  will  be  right.' 

On  Tuesday,  May  19,  I  was  to  set  out  for  Scotland 
in  the  evening.  He  wap  engaged  to  dine  with  me  at 
Mr.  Dilly's ;  I  waited  upon  him  to  remind  him  ox  his 
appointment  and  attend  him  thither;  he  gave  me 


iET.  69]     LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON  61 

some  salutary  counsel^  and  recommended  vigorous 
resolution  against  any  deviation  from  moral  duty. 
BoswELL  :  *  But  you  would  not  have  me  to  bind  myself 
by  a  solemn  obligation  ? '  Johnson  (much  agitated) : 
'  What !  a  vow  ? — O  no,  sir,  a  vow  is  a  horrible  thing, 
it  is  a  snare  for  sin.     The  man  who  cannot  go  to 

heaven  without  a  vow,  may  go '     Here  standing 

erect,  in  the  middle  of  his  library,  and  rolling  grand, 
his  pause  was  truly  a  curious  compound  of  the  solemn 
and  the  ludicrous  ;  he  half  whistled  in  his  usual  way, 
when  pleasant,  and  he  paused,  as  if  checked  by  re- 
ligious awe.  Methought  he  would  have  added — to 
Hell — but  was  restrained.  I  humoured  the  dilemma. 
'What!  sir  (said  I),  "  In  ccelum  j'usseris  ibit  ?  " '  allud- 
ing to  his  imitation  of  it, 

'  And  bid  him  go  to  Hell,  to  Hell  he  goes.' 

I  had  mentioned  to  him  a  slight  fault  in  his  noble 
Imitation  of  the  Tenth  Satire  of  Juvenal,  a  too  near 
recurrence  of  the  verb  spread,  in  his  description  of 
the  young  Enthusiast  at  College  : 

'  Through  all  his  veins  the  fever  of  renown. 
Spreads  from  the  strong  contagion  of  the  gown ; 
O'er  Bodley's  dome  his  future  labours  spread. 
And  Bacon's  mansion  trembles  o'er  his  head.' 

He  had  desired  me  to  change  spreads  to  burns,  but 
for  perfect  authenticity,  I  now  had  it  done  with  his 
own  hand.^  I  thought  this  alteration  not  only  cured 
the  fault,  but  was  more  poetical,  as  it  might  carry  an 
allusion  to  the  shirt  by  which  Hercules  was  inflamed. 

1  The  slip  of  paper  on  which  he  made  the  correction  is  deposited  by 
me  in  the  noble  library  to  which  it  relates,  and  to  which  I  have  pre- 
sented other  pieces  of  his  handwriting. 


62  LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1778 

We  had  a  quiet,  comfortable  meeting  at  Mr.  Dilly's ; 
nobody  there  but  ourselves.  Mr.  Dilly  mentioned 
somebody  having  wished  that  Milton's  Tractate  on 
Education  should  be  printed  along  with  his  poems  in 
the  edition  of  the  English  Poets  then  going  on. 
Johnson  :  '  It  would  be  breaking  in  upon  the  plan ; 
but  would  be  of  no  great  consequence.  So  far  as  it 
would  be  anything,  it  would  be  wrong.  Education 
in  England  has  been  in  danger  of  being  hurt  by  two 
of  its  greatest  men,  Milton  and  Locke.  Milton's  plan 
is  impracticable,  and  I  suppose  has  never  been  tried. 
Locke's,  I  fancy,  has  been  tried  often  enough,  but  is 
very  imperfect ;  it  gives  too  much  to  one  side,  and 
too  little  to  the  other ;  it  gives  too  little  to  literature 
— I  shall  do  what  I  can  for  Dr.  Watts ;  but  my  mate- 
rials are  very  scanty.  His  poems  are  by  no  means 
his  best  works ;  I  cannot  praise  his  poetry  itself 
highly ;  but  I  can  praise  its  design.' 

My  Ulustrious  friend  and  I  parted  with  assurances 
of  affectionate  regard, 

I  wrote  to  him  on  the  25th  of  May  from  Thorpe  in 
Yorkshire,  one  of  the  seats  of  Mr.  Bosville,  and  gave 
him  an  account  of  my  having  passed  a  day  at  Lincoln, 
unexpectedly,  and  therefore  without  having  any 
letters  of  introduction,  but  that  I  had  been  honoured 
with  civilities  from  the  Rev.  Mr.  Simpson,  an  acquaint- 
ance of  his,  and  Captain  Broadley,  of  the  Lincolnshire 
Militia ;  but  more  particularly  from  the  Rev.  Dr. 
Gordon,  the  Chancellor,  who  first  received  me  with 
great  politeness  as  a  stranger,  and,  when  I  informed 
him  who  I  was,  entertained  me  at  his  house  with  the 
most  flattering  attention  ;  I  also  expressed  the  pleasure 
with  which   I    had  found  that  our  worthy  friend. 


;et.  69]    LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON  63 

Langton^  was  highly  esteemed  in  his  own  country 
town. 

TO   DR.  SAMUEL  JOHNSON 

'Edinburgh,  Jtme  18,  1778 
'  Mt  dkab  Sib, — 

'  Since  my  retirm  to  Scotland  I  have  been  again  at  Lanark, 
and  have  had  more  conversation  with  Thomson's  sister. 
It  is  strange  that  Murdoch,  who  was  his  intimate  friend, 
shoidd  have  mistaken  his  mother's  maiden  name,  which  he 
says  was  Hume,  whereas  Hume  was  the  name  of  his  grand- 
mother by  the  mother's  side.  His  mother's  name  was 
Beatrix  Trotter,^  a  daughter  of  Mr.  Trotter  of  Fogo,  a  small 
proprietor  of  land.  Thomson  had  one  brother,  whom  he 
had  with  him  in  England  as  his  amanuensis;  but  he  was 
seized  with  a  consumption,  and  having  returned  to  Scotland 
to  try  what  his  native  air  would  do  for  him,  died  yovmg.  He 
had  three  sisters,  one  married  to  Mr.  Bell,  minister  of  the 
parish  of  Strathaven ;  one  to  Mr.  Craig,  father  of  the  in- 
genious architect,  who  gave  the  plan  of  the  New  Town  of 
Edinburgh  ;  and  one  to  Mr.  Thomson,  master  of  the  grammar 
school  at  Lanark.  He  was  of  a  humane  and  benevolent  dis- 
position ;  not  only  sent  valuable  presents  to  his  sisters,  but  a 
yearly  allowance  in  money,  and  was  always  wishing  to  have 
it  in  his  power  to  do  them  more  good.  Lord  Lyttelton's 
observation,  that  "he  loathed  much  to  write,"  was  very  true. 
His  letters  to  his  sister,  Mrs.  Thomson,  were  not  frequent, 
and  in  one  of  them  he  says,  "All  my  friends  who  know  me 
know  how  backward  I  am  to  write  letters ;  and  never  impute 
the  negligence  of  my  hand  to  the  coldness  of  my  heart."  I 
send  you  a  copy  of  the  last  letter  which  she  had  from  him ; 
she  never  heard  that  he  had  any  intention  of  going  into  holy 
orders.  From  this  late  interview  with  his  sister  I  think  much 
more  favourably  of  him,  as  I  hope  you  will.  I  am  eager  to 
see  more  of  your  Prefaces  to  the  Poets :  I  solace  myself  with 
the  few  proof-sheets  which  I  have. 

1  Dr.  Johnson  was  by  no  means  attentive  to  minute  accuracy  in 
his  Lives  of  the  Poets ;  for,  notwithstanding  my  having  detected  this 
mistake,  he  has  continued  it. 


64  LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON       [1778 

*  I  send  another  parcel  of  Lord  Hailes'  Annals,  which  you 
will  please  to  return  to  me  as  soon  as  you  conveniently  can. 
He  says,  "he  wishes  you  would  cut  a  little  deeper" ;  but  he 
may  be  proud  that  there  is  so  little  occasion  to  use  the 
critical  knife. — I  ever  am,  my  dear  sir,  your  faithful  and 
affectionate  humble  servant,  Jaues  Boswsli..' 

Mr.  Langton  has  been  pleased,  at  my  request,  to 
favour  me  with  some  particulars  of  Dr.  Johnson's  visit 
to  Warley  Camp,  where  this  gentleman  was  at  the 
time  stationed  as  a  Captain  in  the  Lincolnshire  Militia. 
I  shall  give  them  in  his  own  words  in  a  letter  to  me : 

'  It  was  in  the  summer  of  the  year  1778  that  he  complied 
with  my  invitation  to  come  down  to  the  Camp  at  Warley, 
and  he  staj'ed  with  me  about  a  week ;  the  scene  appeared,  not- 
withstanding a  great  degree  of  ill-health  that  he  seemed  to 
labour  under,  to  interest  and  amuse  him,  as  agreeing  with 
the  disposition  that  I  believe  you  know  he  constantly  mani- 
fested towards  inquiring  into  subjects  of  the  military  kind. 
He  sat,  with  a  patient  degree  of  attention,  to  observe  the 
proceedings  of  a  regimental  court-martial,  that  happened  to 
be  called  in  the  time  of  his  stay  with  us ;  and  one  night,  as 
late  as  at  eleven  o'clock,  he  accompanied  the  Major  of  the 
regiment  in  going  what  are  styled  the  Mounds,  where  he 
might  observe  the  forms  of  visiting  the  guards,  for  the  seeing 
that  they  and  their  sentries  are  ready  in  their  duty  on  their 
several  posts.  He  took  occasion  to  converse  at  times  on 
military  topics,  one  in  particular,  that  I  see  the  mention  of 
in  your  Jov/mal  of  a  Tour  to  the  Hebrides,  which  lies  open 
before  me,  as  to  gunpowder ;  which  he  spoke  of  to  the  same 
effect,  in  part,  that  you  relate. 

'  On  one  occasion  when  the  regiment  were  going  through 
their  exercise,  he  went  quite  close  to  the  men  at  one  of  the 
extremities  of  it,  and  watched  all  their  practices  attentively ; 
and  when  he  came  away  his  remark  was,  "  The  men  indeed  do 
load  their  muskets  and  fire  with  wonderful  celerity."  He  was 
likewise  particular  in  requiring  to  know  what  was  the  weight 
of  the  musket  balls  in  use,  and  within  what  distance  they 
might  be  expected  to  take  effect  when  fired  off. 


;et.  69]     LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  65 

'  In  walkmg  among  the  tents,  and  observing  the  difference 
between  those  of  the  oflBcers  and  private  men,  he  said,  that 
the  superiority  of  accommodation  of  the  better  conditions  of 
life,  to  that  of  the  inferior  ones,  was  never  exhibited  to  him 
in  so  distinct  a  view.  The  civilities  paid  to  him  in  the  camp 
were,  from  the  gentlemen  of  the  Lincolnshire  regiment,  one 
of  the  oflBcers  of  which  accommodated  him  with  a  tent  in 
which  he  slept ;  and  from  General  HaU,  who  very  courteously 
invited  him  to  dine  with  him,  where  he  appeared  to  be  very 
well  pleased  with  his  entertainment,  and  the  civilities  he 
received  on  the  part  of  the  General ;  ^  the  attention  likewise 
of  the  General's  aide-de-camp,  Captain  Smith,  seemed  to  be 
very  welcome  to  him,  as  appeared  by  their  engaging  in  a 
great  deal  of  discourse  together.  The  gentlemen  of  the  East 
York  regiment  likewise,  on  being  informed  of  his  coming, 
solicited  his  company  at  dinner,  but  by  that  time  he  had 
fixed  his  departure,  so  that  he  could  not  comply  with  the 
invitation.' 

TO   JAMES    BOSWELL,  ESQ. 

'Sib, — I  have  received  two  letters  from  you,  of  which  the 
second  complains  of  the  neglect  shown  to  the  first.  You 
must  not  tie  your  friends  to  such  punctual  correspondence. 
You  have  all  possible  assurances  of  my  afiFection  and  esteem ; 
and  there  ought  to  be  no  need  of  reiterated  professions. 
When  it  may  happen  that  I  can  give  you  either  counsel  or 
comfort,  I  hope  it  will  never  happen  to  me  that  I  should 
neglect  you ;  but  you  must  not  think  me  criminal  or  cold  if 
I  say  nothing  when  I  have  nothing  to  say. 

'  You  are  now  happy  enough.  IMrs.  Boswell  is  recovered  ; 
and  I  congratulate  you  upon  the  probability  of  her  long  life. 
If  general  approbation  will  add  anything  to  your  enjoyment, 
I  can  tell  you  that  I  have  heard  you  mentioned  as  a  man 
whom  everybody  likes.    I  think  life  has  little  more  to  give. 

' 2  has  gone  to  his  regiment.     He  has  laid  down  his 

coach,  and  talks  of  making  more  contractions  of  his  expense : 


1  When  I  one  day  at  Court  expressed  to  General  Hall  my  sense  of 
the  honour  he  had  done  my  friend,  he  politely  answered,  '  Sir,  I  did 
»«y«^honour.' 

■■2  Langton. 


66  LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON        [1778 

how  he  will  succeed  I  know  not.  It  is  difficult  to  reform  a 
household  gradually ;  it  may  be  better  done  by  a  system 
totally  new.     I  am  afraid  he  has  always  something  to  hide. 

When  we  pressed  him  to  go  to ,  he  objected  the  necessity 

of  attending  his  navigation;  yet  he  could  talk  of  going  to 
Aberdeen,  a  place  not  much  nearer  his  navigation.    I  believe 

he  cannot  bear  the  thought  of  living  at  in  a  state  of 

diminution;  and  of  appearing  among  the  gentlemen  of  the 
neighbourhood  shorn  of  his  beams.  This  is  natural,  but  it  is 
cowardly.  What  I  told  him  of  the  increasing  expense  of  a 
growing  family  seems  to  have  struck  him.  He  certainly  had 
gone  on  with  very  confused  views,  and  we  have,  I  think, 
shown  him  that  he  is  wrong :  though,  with  the  common 
deficience  of  advisers,  we  have  not  shown  him  how  to  do 
right 

'  I  wish  you  would  a  little  correct  or  restrain  your  imagina- 
tion, and  imagine  that  happiness,  such  as  life  admits,  may  be 
had  at  other  places  as  well  as  London.  Without  asserting 
Stoicism,^  it  may  be  said,  that  it  is  our  business  to  exempt 
ourselves  as  much  as  we  can  from  the  power  of  external 
things.  There  is  but  one  solid  basis  of  happiness  :  and  that 
is,  the  reasonable  hope  of  a  happy  futurity.  This  may  be 
had  everywhere. 

'  I  do  not  blame  your  preference  of  London  to  other  places, 
for  it  is  really  to  be  preferred,  if  the  choice  is  free ;  but  few 
have  the  choice  of  their  place,  or  their  manner  of  life ;  and 
mere  pleasure  ought  not  to  be  the  prime  motive  of  action. 

'Mrs.  Thrale,  poor  thing,  has  a  daughter.  ]VIr.  Thrale 
dislikes  the  times,  like  the  rest  of  us.  Mrs.  Williams  ia. 
sick;  Mrs.  Desmoulins  is  poor.  I  have  miserable  nights. 
Nobody  is  weU  but  Mr.  Levett. — I  am,  dear  sir,  your  most, 
etc,  Sam.  Johnson. 

'London,  July  3,  1778.' 

In  the  course  of  this  year  there  was  a  difference 


1  [I  suspect  that  this  is  a  misprint,  and  that  Johnson  wrote  '  without 
affecting  stoicism  ' : — but  the  original  letter  being  burned  in  a  mass  of 
papers  in  Scotland,  I  have  not  been  able  to  ascertain  whether  my  con- 
jecture is  well  founded  or  not.  The  expression  in  the  text,  however, 
may  be  justified.— M.] 


iET.  7o]     LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  67 

between  him  and  his  friend  Mr.  Strahan;  the  par- 
ticulars of  which  it  is  unnecessary  to  relate.  Their 
reconciliation  was  communicated  to  me  in  a  letter 
from  Mr.  Strahan  in  the  following  words  : 

'  The  notes  I  showed  you  that  passed  between  him  and  me 
were  dated  in  March  last.  The  matter  lay  dormant  till  July 
27,  when  he  wrote  to  me  as  follows : — 

TO    WILLIAM    STRAHANj  ESQ. 

'  Sib, — It  would  be  very  foolish  for  us  to  continue  strangers 
any  longer.  You  can  never  by  persistency  make  wrong  right. 
If  I  resented  too  acrimoniously,  I  resented  only  to  yourself. 
Nobody  ever  saw  or  heard  what  I  wrote.  You  saw  that  my 
anger  was  over,  for  in  a  day  or  two  I  came  to  your  house. 
I  have  given  you  a  longer  time ;  and  I  hope  you  have  made 
so  good  use  of  it,  as  to  be  no  longer  on  evil  terms  with,  sir, 
your,  etc.,  Sam.  Johnson, 

'  On  this  I  called  upon  him ;  and  he  has  since  dined  with 
me.' 

After  this  time^  the  same  friendship  as  formerly 
continued  between  Dr.  Johnson  and  Mr.  Strahan. 
My  friend  mentioned  to  me  a  little  circumstance  of 
his  attention,  which,  though  we  may  smile  at  it,  must 
be  allowed  to  have  its  foundation  in  a  nice  and  true 
knowledge  of  human  life.  *When  I  write  to  Scot- 
land (said  he),  I  employ  Strahan  to  frank  my  letters, 
that  he  may  have  the  consequence  of  appearing  a 
Parliament-man  among  his  countrymen.' 

TO    CAPTAIN    LANGTON,^    WABLEY    CAMP 

'Dear  Sib, — When  I  recollect  how  long  ago  I  was  received 
with  80  much  kindness  at  Warley  Common,  I  am  ashamed 
that  I  have  not  made  some  inquiries  after  my  friends. 

1  Dr.  Johnson  here  addresses  his  worthy  friend,  Bennet  Langton, 
Esq.,  by  his  title  as  Captain  of  the  Lincolnshire  Militia,  in  which  be 
has  since  been  most  deservedly  raised  to  the  rank  of  Major. 


68  LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON        [1778 

'Pray  how  many  sheep-stealers  did  you  convict  ?  and  how 
did  you  punish  them  ?  When  are  you  to  be  cantoned  in 
better  habitations?  The  air  grows  cold,  and  the  ground 
damp.  Longer  stay  in  the  camp  cannot  be  without  much 
danger  to  the  health  of  the  common  men,  if  even  the  officers 
oan  escape. 

'You  see  that  Dr.  Percy  is  now  Dean  of  Carlisle;  about 
five  hundred  a  year,  with  a  power  of  presenting  himself  to 
some  good  living.     He  is  provided  for. 

'  The  session  of  the  Club  is  to  commence  with  that  of  the 
Parliament.  Mr.  Banks  desires  to  be  admitted  ;  he  will  be  a 
very  honourable  accession. 

'Did  the  King  please  you?  The  Coxheath  men,  I  think, 
have  some  reason  to  complain :  Reynolds  says  your  camp  is 
better  than  theirs. 

'  I  hope  you  find  yourself  able  to  encounter  this  weather. 
Take  care  of  your  own  health  ;  and,  as  you  can,  of  your  men. 
Be  pleased  to  make  my  compliments  to  all  the  gentlemen 
whose  notice  I  have  had,  and  whose  kindness  I  have  experi- 
enced.— I  am,  dear  sir,  your  most  humble  servant, 

'Sam.  JomrsoN. 

'  October  31,  1778.' 

I  wrote  to  him  on  the  18th  of  August,  the  18th  of 
September,  and  the  6th  of  November ;  informing'  him 
of  my  having  had  another  son  born,  whom  I  had  called 
James ;  that  I  had  passed  some  time  at  Auchinleck  ; 
that  the  Countess  of  Loudoun,  now  in  her  ninety- 
ninth  year,  was  as  fresh  as  when  he  saw  her,  and 
remembered  him  with  respect ;  and  that  his  mother 
by  adoption,  the  Countess  of  Eglintoune,  had  said  to 
me,  'Tell  Mr.  Johnson  I  love  him  exceedingly;  that 
I  had  again  suffered  much  from  bad  spirits  ;  and  that 
as  it  was  very  long  since  I  had  heard  from  him,  I  was 
not  a  little  uneasy.' 

The  continuance  of  his  regard  for  his  friend  Dr. 
Bumey  appears  from  the  following  letters  : — 


MT.70]    LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  69 

TO    THE    REV.   DB.    WHEELER,  OXFORD 

'  Deak  Sie, — Dr.  Bumey,  who  brings  this  paper,  is  engaged 
in  a  History  of  Music ;  and  having  been  told  by  Dr.  Mark- 
ham  of  some  MBS.  relating  to  the  subject,  which  are  in  the 
library  of  your  college,  is  desirous  to  examine  them.  He  is 
my  friend;  and  therefore  I  take  the  liberty  of  entreating 
your  favour  and  assistance  in  his  inquiry ;  and  can  assure  you, 
with  great  confidence,  that  if  you  knew  him  he  would  not 
want  any  intervenient  solicitation  to  obtain  the  kindness  of 
one  who  loves  learning  and  virtue  as  you  love  them. 

'I  have  been  flattering  myself  all  the  summer  with  the 
hope  of  paying  my  annual  visit  to  my  friends,  but  something 
has  obstructed  me ;  I  still  hope  not  to  be  long  without  seeing 
you.  I  should  be  glad  of  a  little  literary  talk ;  and  glad  to 
show  you,  by  the  frequency  of  my  visits,  how  eagerly  I  love 
it,  when  you  talk  it. — I  am,  dear  sir,  your  most  humble 
servant,  Sah.  Johkson. 

'London,  November  2,  1778.' 

TO    THE   REV.  DR.   EDWARDS,  OXFORD 

'Sm, — The  bearer.  Dr.  Burney,  has  had  some  account  of 
a  Welsh  manuscript  in  the  Bodleian  library,  from  which 
he  hopes  to  gain  some  materials  for  his  History  of  Music; 
but  being  ignorant  of  the  language,  is  at  a  loss  where  to  find 
assistance.  I  make  no  doubt  but  you,  sir,  can  help  him 
through  his  difficulties,  and  therefore  take  the  liberty  of 
recommending  him  to  your  favour,  as  I  am  sure  you  will  find 
him  a  man  worthy  of  every  civility  that  can  be  shown,  and 
every  benefit  that  can  be  conferred. 

'  But  we  must  not  let  Welsh  drive  us  from  Greek.  What 
comes  of  Xenophon  ?  If  you  do  not  like  the  trouble  of  pub- 
lishing the  book,  do  not  let  your  commentaries  be  lost ;  con- 
trive that  they  may  be  published  somewhere. — I  am,  sir,  your 
humble  servant,  Sam.  Johnson. 

'  London,  November  2,  1778.' 

These  letters  procured  Dr.  Burney  great  kiudness 
and  friendly  offices  from  both  of  these  gentlemen,  not 


70  LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1778 

only  on  that  occasion,  but  in  future  visits  to  the  uni- 
versity. The  same  year  Dr.  Johnson  not  only  wrote 
to  Dr.  Joseph  Warton  in  favour  of  Dr.  Burney's 
youngest  son,  who  was  to  he  placed  in  the  College 
of  Winchester,  but  accompanied  him  when  he  went 
thither. 

We  surely  cannot  but  admire  the  benevolent  exer- 
tions of  this  great  and  good  man,  especially  when  we 
consider  how  grievously  he  was  afflicted  with  bad 
health,  and  how  uncomfortable  his  home  was  made 
by  the  perpetual  jarring  of  those  whom  he  charitably 
accommodated  under  his  roof.  He  has  sometimes 
suffered  me  to  talk  jocularly  of  his  group  of  females, 
and  called  them  his  Seraglio.  He  thus  mentions  them, 
together  with  honest  Levett,  in  one  of  his  letters  to 
Mrs.  Thrale  : — '  Williams  hates  everybody ;  Levett 
hates  Desmoulins,  and  does  not  love  Williams :  Des- 
moulins  hates  them  both ;  Poll^  loves  none  of  them.* 

TO    JAMES    BOSWEIX,  ESQ. 

'Dear  Sir, — It  is  indeed  a  long  time  since  I  wrote,  and 
think  you  must  have  some  reason  to  complain ;  however,  you 
must  not  let  small  things  disturb  you,  when  you  have  such  a 
fine  addition  to  your  happiness  as  a  new  boy,  and  I  hope  your 
lady's  health  is  restored  by  bringing  him.  It  seems  very  pro- 
bable that  a  little  care  will  now  restore  her,  if  any  remains  of 
her  complaints  are  left. 

'You  seem,  if  I  imderstand  your  letter,  to  be  gaining 
ground  at  Auchinleck — an  incident  that  would  give  me  great 
delight. 

'When  any  fit  of  anxiety,  or  gloominess,  or  perversion  of 
mind,  lays  hold  upon  you,  make  it  a  rule  not  to  publish  it 
by  complaints,   but  exert  your  whole  care  to  hide  it;  by 

1  Miss  Cannicbael. 


JET.  7o]    LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON  71 

endeavouring  to  hide  it  you  will  drive  it  away.  Be  always 
busy. 

'  The  Club  ia  to  meet  with  the  Parliament ;  we  talk  of 
electing  Banks,  the  traveller ;  he  will  be  a  reputable  member. 

'  Langton  has  been  encamped  with  his  company  of  militia 
on  Warley  Common ;  I  spent  five  days  amongst  them ;  he 
signalised  himself  as  a  diligent  ofiBcer,  and  has  very  high 
respect  in  the  regiment.  He  presided  when  I  was  there  at  a 
court-martial ;  he  is  now  quartered  in  Hertfordshire ;  his  lady 
and  little  ones  are  in  Scotland.  Paoli  came  to  the  camp,  and 
commended  the  soldiers. 

'Of  myself  I  have  no  great  matters  to  say;  my  health  is 
not  restored,  my  nights  are  restless  and  tedious.  The  best 
night  that  I  have  had  these  twenty  years  was  at  Fort 
Augustus. 

'  I  hope  soon  to  send  you  a  few  Lives  to  read. — I  am,  dear 
air,  your  most  affectionate,  Sam.  Johnson. 

'November  21,  1778.' 

About  this  time  the  Rev.  Mr.  John  Hussey,  who  had 
been  some  time  in  trade,  and  was  then  a  clergyman  of 
the  Church  of  England,  being  about  to  undertake  a 
journey  to  Aleppo  and  other  parts  of  the  East,  which 
he  accomplished,  Dr.  Johnson  (who  had  long  been  in 
habits  of  intimacy  with  him)  honoured  him  with  the 
following  letter : — 

TO   MR.  JOHN   HUSSEY 

'Dkab  Sib, — I  have  sent  you  the  Orwmmar,  and  have  left 
you  two  books  more,  by  which  I  hope  to  be  remembered: 
write  my  name  in  them ;  we  may  perhaps  see  each  other  no 
more;  you  part  with  my  good  wishes,  nor  do  I  despair  of 
seeing  you  return.  Let  no  opportunities  of  vice  corrupt 
you;  let  no  bad  example  seduce  you;  let  the  blindness  of 
Mohammedans  confirm  you  in  Christianity.  God  bless  you. 
— I  am,  dear  sir,  your  affectionate  humble  servant, 

'  Sam.  Jomraoir. 

*  December  29,  1778. 


72  LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON        [1779 

Johnson  this  year  expressed  great  satisfaction  at 
the  publication  of  the  first  volume  of  Discourses  to  the 
Boyal  Academy,  by  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  whom  he 
always  considered  as  one  of  his  literary  school.  Much 
praise  indeed  is  due  to  those  excellent  Discourses, 
which  are  so  universally  admired,  and  for  which  the 
author  received  from  the  Empress  of  Russia  a  gold 
snuff-box,  adorned  with  her  profile  in  bos  relief,  set 
in  diamonds ;  and  containing  what  is  infinitely  more 
valuable,  a  slip  of  paper,  on  which  are  written  with 
her  Imperial  Majesty's  own  hand,  the  following  words  : 
*  Pour  le  Chevalier  Reynolds,  en  temoignage  du  contente- 
ment  que  j'ai  ressentie  cb  la  lecture  de  ses  excellens  dis- 
cours  sur  la  peinture.' 

This  year  Johnson  gave  the  world  a  luminous  proof 
that  the  vigour  of  his  mind  in  all  its  faculties,  whether 
memory,  judgment,  or  imagination,  was  not  in  the 
least  abated ;  for  this  year  came  out  the  first  four 
volumes  of  his  Pre/aces,  biographical  and  critical,  to 
the  most  eminent  of  the  English  Poets,  published  by  the 
booksellers  of  London.  The  remaining  volumes  came 
out  in  the  year  1780.  The  poets  were  selected  by 
the  several  booksellers  who  had  the  honorary  copy- 
right, which  is  still  preserved  among  them  by  mutual 
compact,  notwithstanding  the  decision  of  the  House 
of  Lords  against  the  perpetuity  of  literary  property. 
We  have  his  own  authority,^  that  by  his  recommenda- 
tion the  poems  of  Blackmore,  ^Vatts,  Pomfret,  and 
Yalden,  were  added  to  the  collection.  Of  this  work 
I  shall  speak  more  particularly  hereafter. 

On  the  22nd  of  January,  I  wrote  to  him  on  several 

1  Li/eqfWatt*. 


.EX.  7o]    LIFE    OF   DIL    JOHNSON  73 

topics,  and  mentioned  that  as  he  had  been  so  good  as 
to  permit  me  to  have  the  proof-sheets  of  his  Lives  of 
the  Poets,  I  had  written  to  his  servant  Francis  to  take 
care  of  them  for  me. 

MR.   BOSWELL   TO   DR.   JOHNSON 

'Edinburgh,  Feb.  2, 1779. 

'My  dear  Sib, — Garrick's  death  is  a  striking  event;  not 
that  we  should  be  surprised  with  the  death  of  any  man,  who 
has  Uved  sixty -two  years  ;^  but  because  there  was  a  vivacity 
in  our  late  celebrated  friend,  which  drove  away  the  thoughts 
of  death  from  any  association  with  him,  I  am  sure  you  will 
be  tenderly  affected  with  his  departure ;  and  I  would  wish  to 
hear  from  you  upon  the  subject.  I  was  obhged  to  him  in  my 
days  of  effervescence  in  London,  when  poor  Derrick  was  my 
governor ;  and  since  that  time  I  received  many  civilities  from 
him.  Do  you  remember  how  pleasing  it  was,  when  I  received 
a  letter  from  him,  at  Inveraray,  upon  our  first  return  to 
civilised  hving  after  our  Hebridean  journey  ?  I  shall  always 
remember  him  with  affection  as  well  as  admiration. 

'  On  Saturday  last,  being  the  30th  of  January,  I  drank  coffee 
and  old  port,  and  had  solemn  conversation  with  the  Reverend 
Mr.  Falconer,  a  non-juring  bishop,  a  very  learned  and  worthy 
man.  He  gave  two  toasts,  which  you  will  beheve  I  drank 
with  cordiality,  Dr.  Samuel  Johnson  and  Flora  Macdonald. 
I  sat  about  four  hours  with  him,  and  it  was  really  as  if  I  had 
been  hving  in  the  last  century.  The  Episcopal  Church  of 
Scotland,  though  faithful  to  the  royal  house  of  Stuart,  has 
never  accepted  of  any  cong^  d'dlire,  since  the  Revolution ;  it 
is  the  only  true  Episcopal  Church  in  Scotland,  as  it  has  its  own 
succession  of  bishops.  For  as  to  the  episcopal  clergy  who  take 
the  oaths  to  the  present  government,  they  indeed  follow  the 
rites  of  the  Church  of  England,  but,  as  Bishop  Falconer 
observed,  "they  are  not  Episcopals;  for  they  are  under  no 

^  [On  Mr.  Garrick's  monument  in  Lichfield  Cathedral,  be  is  said  to 
have  died,  'aged  64  years.'  But  it  is  a  mistake,  and  Mr.  Boswell  it 
perfectly  correct.  Garrick  was  baptized  at  Hereford,  February  38, 
1716-17,  and  died  at  his  house  in  London,  January  20,  1779.  Tb« 
inaccuracy  of  lapidary  inscriptions  is  well  known. — M.] 


74  LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1779 

bishop,  as  a  bishop  cannot  have  authority  beyond  his  diocese." 
This  venerable  gentleman  did  me  the  honour  to  dine  with  me 
yesterday,  and  he  laid  his  hands  upon  the  heads  of  my  little 
ones.  We  had  a  good  deal  of  curious  literary  conversation, 
particularly  about  Mr.  Thomas  Ruddiman,  with  whom  he 
lived  in  great  friendship. 

'Any  fresh  instance  of  the  uncertainty  of  life  makes  one 
embrace  more  closely  a  valuable  friend.  My  dear  and  much 
respected  sir,  may  God  preserve  you  long  in  this  world  while 
I  am  in  it. — I  am  ever,  your  much  obliged  and  affectionate 
humble  servant,  James  Boswell.' 

On  the  23rd  of  February  I  wrote  to  him  again,  com- 
plaining of  his  silence,  as  I  had  heard  he  was  ill,  and 
had  written  to  Mr.  Thrale  for  information  concerning 
him ;  and  I  announced  my  intention  of  soon  being 
again  in  London. 

TO   JAMES   BOSWELL,  ESQ. 

'  Dear  Sib, — Why  should  you  take  such  delight  to  make  a 
bustle,  to  write  to  Mr.  Thrale  that  I  am  negligent,  and  to 
Francis  to  do  what  is  so  very  unnecessary  ?  Thrale,  you  may 
be  sure,  cared  not  about  it;  and  I  shall  spare  Francis  the 
trouble,  by  ordering  a  set  both  of  the  Lives  and  Poets  to 
dear  Mrs.  Boswell,i  in  acknowledgment  of  her  marmalade. 
Persuade  her  to  accept  them,  and  accept  them  kindly.  If  I 
thought  she  would  receive  them  scornfully,  I  would  send  them 
to  Miss  Boswell,  who,  I  hope,  has  yet  none  of  her  mamma's 
ill-will  to  me. 

'  I  would  send  sets  of  Lives,  four  volumes,  to  some  other 
friends,  to  Lord  Hailes  first.  His  second  volume  lies  by  my 
bedside;  a  book  surely  of  great  labour,  and  to  every  just 
thinker  of  great  delight.  Write  me  word  to  whom  I  shall 
Bend  besides;  would  it  please  Lord  Auchinleck?  Mrs. 
Thrale  waits  in  the  coach. — I  am,  dear  sir,  etc., 

'  Sak.  JoBirsoK. 

'  Mcurch  IZ,  1779: 


1  He  sent  a  set  elegantly  bound  and  gilt,  which  was  received  as  a 
very  handsome  present. 


JET.  7o]    LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  75 

This  letter  crossed  me  on  the  road  to  London, 
where  I  arrived  on  Monday,  March  15,  and  next 
morning  at  a  late  hour  found  Dr.  Johnson  sitting 
over  his  tea,  attended  by  Mrs.  Desmoulins,  Mr. 
Levett,  and  a  clergyman,  who  had  come  to  submit 
some  poetical  pieces  to  his  revision.  It  is  wonderful 
what  a  number  and  variety  of  writers,  some  of  them 
even  unknown  to  him,  prevailed  on  his  good-nature 
to  look  over  their  works  and  suggest  corrections  and 
improvements.  My  arrival  interrupted  for  a  little 
while  the  important  business  of  this  true  representa- 
tive of  Bayes  ;  upon  its  being  resumed,  I  found  that 
the  subject  under  immediate  consideration  was  a 
translation,  yet  in  manuscript,  of  the  Carmen  Seculare 
of  Horace,  which  had  this  year  been  set  to  music,  and 
performed  as  a  public  entertainment  in  London,  for 
the  joint  benefit  of  Monsieur  Philidor  and  Signor 
Baretti.  When  Johnson  had  done  reading,  the 
author  asked  him  bluntly,  'If  upon  the  whole  it 
was  a  good  translation .'' '  Johnson,  whose  regard  foi 
truth  was  uncommonly  strict,  seemed  to  be  puzzled 
for  a  moment  what  answer  to  make ;  as  he  certainly 
could  not  honestly  commend  the  performance,  with 
exquisite  address  he  evaded  the  question  thus,  *  Sir,  I 
do  not  say  that  it  may  not  be  made  a  very  good  trans- 
lation.' Here  nothing  whatever  in  favour  of  the  per- 
formance was  affirmed,  and  yet  the  writer  was  not 
shocked.  A  printed  Ode  to  the  Warlike  Genius  of 
Britain  came  next  in  review :  the  bard  was  a  lank, 
bony  figure,  with  short  black  hair ;  he  was  writhing 
himself  in  agitation,  while  Johnson  read,  and  showing 
his  teeth  in  a  grin  of  earnestness,  exclaimed  in  broken 
sentences,  and  in  a  keen,  sharp  tone,  '  Is  that  poetry. 


76  LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1779 

sir  ? — Is  it  Pindar  ? '  Johnson  :  '  Why,  sir,  there  is 
here  a  great  deal  of  what  is  called  poetry,'  Then 
turning  to  me,  the  poet  cried,  'My  muse  has  not 
been  long  upon  the  town,  and  (pointing  to  the  Ode) 
it  trembles  under  the  hand  of  the  great  critic' 
Johnson,  in  a  tone  of  displeasure,  asked  him,  *Why 
do  you  praise  Anson?'  I  did  not  trouble  him  by 
asking  his  reason  for  this  question.  He  proceeded, 
'  Here  is  an  error,  sir ;  you  have  made  Genius 
feminine.'  'Palpable,  sir  (cried  the  enthusiast);  I 
know  it.  But  (in  a  lower  tone)  it  was  to  pay  a 
compliment  to  the  Duchess  of  Devonshire,  with 
which  her  Grace  was  pleased.  She  is  walking  across 
Coxheath,  in  the  military  uniform,  and  I  suppose  her 
to  be  the  Genius  of  Britain.'  Johnson  :  '  Sir,  you  are 
giving  a  reason  for  it ;  but  that  will  not  make  it  right. 
You  may  have  a  reason  why  two  and  two  should  make 
five  ;  but  they  will  still  make  but  four.' 

Although  I  was  several  times  with  him  in  the 
course  of  the  following  days,  such  it  seems  were  my 
occupations,  or  such  my  negligence,  that  I  have  pre- 
served no  memorial  of  his  conversation  till  Friday, 
March  26,  when  I  visited  him.  He  said  he  expected 
to  be  attacked  on  account  of  his  Lives  of  the  Poets. 
'  However  (said  he),  I  would  rather  be  attacked  than 
unnoticed.  For  the  worst  thing  you  can  do  to  an 
author  is  to  be  silent  as  to  his  works.  An  assault 
upon  a  town  is  a  bad  thing;  but  starving  it  is  stUl 
worse ;  an  assault  may  be  unsuccessful ;  you  may  have 
more  men  killed  than  you  kill ;  but  if  you  starve  the 
town,  you  are  sure  of  victory.' 

Talking  of  a  friend  of  ours  associating  with  persons 
of  very  discordant  principles  and  characters  ;  I  said  he 


Mi.yo]     LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  77 

was  a  very  universal  man,  quite  a  man  of  the  world. 
Johnson  :  '  Yes,  sir ;  but  one  may  be  so  much  a  man 
of  the  world  as  to  be  nothing  in  the  world.  I  re- 
member a  passage  in  Goldsmith's  Vicar  of  Wakefield, 
which  he  was  afterwards  fool  enough  to  expunge  :  "  I 
do  not  love  a  man  who  is  zealous  for  nothing.'" 
Boswell:  'That  was  a  fine  passage.'  Johnson  r 
'  Yes,  sir ;  there  was  another  fine  passage  too,  which 
he  struck  out :  "  When  I  was  a  young  man,  being 
anxious  to  distinguish  myself,  I  was  perpetually 
starting  new  propositions.  But  I  soon  gave  this 
over ;  for  I  found  that  generally  what  was  new  wa» 
false.'"  ^  I  said  I  did  not  like  to  sit  with  people  of 
whom  I  had  not  a  good  opinion.  Johnson  :  '  But  you 
must  not  indulge  your  delicacy  too  much  ;  or  you  will 
be  a  tete-d-tete  man  all  your  life.' 

During  my  stay  in  London  this  spring,  I  find  I  was 
unaccountably  negligent  in  preserving  Johnson's  say- 
ings, more  so  than  at  any  time  when  I  was  happy 
enough  to  have  an  opportunity  of  hearing  his  wisdom 
and  wit.  There  is  no  help  for  it  now.  I  must  con- 
tent myself  with  presenting  such  scraps  as  I  have. 
But  I  am  nevertheless  ashamed  and  vexed  to  think 
how  much  has  been  lost.  It  is  not  that  there  was  a 
bad  crop  this  year;  but  that  I  was  not  sufficiently 
careful  in  gathering  it  in.  I,  therefore,  in  some 
instances,  can  only  exhibit  a  few  detached  fragments. 


1  [Dr.  Burney,  in  a  note  introduced  in  a  former  page,  has  mentioned 
this  circumstance,  concerning  Goldsmith,  as  communicated  to  him  by 
Dr.  Johnson ;  not  recollecting  that  it  occurred  here.  His  remark, 
however,  is  not  whojly  superfluous,  as  it  ascertains  that  the  words 
which  Goldsmith  had  put  into  the  mouth  of  a  fictitious  character  in  the 
Vicar  of  Wakefield,  and  which,  as  we  learn  from  Dr.  Johnson,  he  after- 
wards expunged,  related,  like  many  other  passages  in  his  novel,  to 
himself. — M.J 


78  LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1776 

Talking  of  the  wonderful  concealment  of  the  author 
of  the  celebrated  letters  signed  Junius ;  he  said,  '  J 
should  have  believed  Burke  to  be  Junius,  because  I 
know  no  man  but  Burke  who  is  capable  of  writing 
these  letters ;  but  Burke  spontaneously  denied  it  to 
me.  The  case  would  have  been  different,  had  I  asked 
him  if  he  was  the  author ;  a  man  so  questioned,  as  to 
an  anonymous  publication,  may  think  he  has  a  right 
to  deny  it.' 

He  observed  that  his  old  friend,  Mr.  Sheridan,  had 
been  honoured  with  extraordinary  attention  in  his 
own  country,  by  having  had  an  exception  made  in 
his  favour  in  an  Irish  Act  of  Parliament  concerning 
insolvent  debtors.  '  Thus  to  be  singled  out  (said  he) 
by  legislature,  as  an  object  of  public  consideration 
and  kindness,  is  a  proof  of  no  common  merit.' 

At  Streatham,  on  Monday,  March  29,  at  breakfast, 
he  maintained  that  a  father  had  no  right  to  control 
the  inclinations  of  his  daughters  in  marriage. 

On  Wednesday,  March  31,  when  I  visited  him,  and 
confessed  an  excess  of  which  I  had  very  seldom  been 
guUty  ;  that  I  had  spent  a  whole  night  in  playing  at 
cards,  and  that  I  could  not  look  back  on  it  with  satis- 
faction :  instead  of  a  harsh  animadversion,  he  mUdly 
said,  '  Alas  !  sir,  on  how  few  things  can  we  look  back 
with  satisfaction.' 

On  Thursday,  April  1,  he  commended  one  of  the 
Dukes  of  Devonshire  for '  a  dogged  veracity.'  He  said 
too,  '  London  is  nothing  to  some  people ;  but  to  a  man 
whose  pleasure  is  intellectual,  London  is  the  place. 
And  there  is  no  place  where  economy  can  be  so  well 
practised  as  in  London :  more  can  be  had  here  for  the 
money,  even  by  ladies,  than  anywhere  else.     You 


>ET.  7o]    LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON  79 

cannot  play  tricks  with  your  fortune  in  a  small  place ; 
you  must  make  an  uniform  appearance.  Here  a  lady 
may  have  well-furnished  apartments,  and  elegant 
dress,  without  any  meat  in  her  kitchen.' 

I  was  amused  by  considering  with  how  much  ease 
and  coolness  he  could  write  or  talk  to  a  friend,  exhort- 
ing him  not  to  suppose  that  happiness  was  not  to  be 
found  as  well  in  other  places  as  in  London ;  when 
he  himself  was  at  all  times  sensible  of  its  being,  com- 
paratively speaking,  a  heaven  upon  earth.  The  truth 
is,  that  by  those  who  from  sagacity,  attention,  and 
experience,  have  learned  the  full  advantage  of  London, 
its  pre-eminence  over  every  other  place,  not  only  for 
variety  of  enjoyment,  but  for  comfort,  wUl  be  felt 
with  a  philosophical  exultation.  The  freedom  from 
remark  and  petty  censure,  with  which  life  may  be 
passed  there,  is  a  circumstance  which  a  man  who 
knows  the  teasing  restraint  of  a  narrow  circle  must 
relish  highly.  Mr.  Burke,  whose  orderly  and  amiable 
domestic  habits  might  make  the  eye  of  observation 
less  irksome  to  him  than  to  most  men,  said  once  very 
pleasantly  in  my  hearing,  '  Though  I  have  the  honour 
to  represent  Bristol,  I  should  not  like  to  live  there ; 
I  should  be  obliged  to  be  so  much  upon  my  good 
behaviour.'  In  London,  a  man  may  live  in  splendid 
society  at  one  time,  and  in  frugal  retirement  at 
another,  without  animadversion.  There,  and  there 
alone,  a  man's  own  house  is  truly  his  castle,  in  which 
he  can  be  in  perfect  safety  from  intrusion  whenever 
he  pleases.  I  never  shall  forget  how  well  this  was 
expressed  to  me  one  day  by  Mr.  Meynell :  *  The  chief 
advantage  of  London  (said  he)  is,  that  a  man  is  always 
*o  near  his  burrow.' 


80  LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON        [1779 

He  said  of  one  of  his  old  acquaintances,  '  He  is  very 
fit  for  a  travelling  governor.  He  knows  French  very 
well.  He  is  a  man  of  good  principles ;  and  there 
would  be  no  danger  that  a  young  gentleman  should 
catch  his  manner ;  for  it  is  so  very  bad,  that  it  must 
be  avoided.  In  that  respect  he  would  be  like  the 
drunken  Helot.' 

A  gentleman  has  informed  me,  that  Johnson  said  of 
the  same  person,  '  Sir,  he  has  the  most  inverted  under- 
standing of  any  man  whom  I  have  ever  known.' 

On  Friday,  April  2,  being  Good  Friday,  J  visited 
him  in  the  morning  as  usual ;  and  finding  that  we 
insensibly  fell  into  a  train  of  ridicule  upon  the  foibles 
of  one  of  our  friends,  a  very  worthy  man,  I,  by  way 
of  a  check,  quoted  some  good  admonition  from  the 
Government  of  the  Tongue,  that  very  pious  book. 
It  happened  also  remarkably  enough,  that  the  sub- 
ject of  the  sermon  preached  to  us  to-day  by  Dr. 
Burrows,  the  rector  of  St.  Clement  Danes,  was  the 
certainty  that  at  the  last  day  we  must  give  an  account 
of  'the  deeds  done  in  the  body';  and  amongst  various 
acts  of  culpability  he  mentioned  evil-speaking.  As 
we  were  moving  slowly  along  in  the  crowd  from 
church,  Johnson  jogged  my  elbow,  and  said,  'Did 
you  attend  to  the  sermon  ? '  '  Yes,  sir  (said  I),  it  was 
very  applicable  to  xis.'  He,  however,  stood  upon  the 
defensive.  'Why,  sir,  the  sense  of  ridicule  is  given 
us,  and  may  be  lawfully  used.  The  author  of  the 
Government  of  the  Tongue  would  have  us  treat  all  men 
alike.' 

In  the  interval  between  morning  and  evening  service, 
he  endeavoured  to  employ  himself  earnestly  in  devo- 
tional exercise  ;  and,  as  he  has  mentioned  in  his  Prayers 


JET.70]     LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  81 

and  Meditations,  gave  me  Les  Pensies  de  Pascal, 
that  I  might  not  interrupt  him,  I  preserve  the  book 
vrith  reverence.  His  presenting  it  to  me  is  marked 
upon  it  with  his  own  hand,  and  I  have  found  in  it  a 
truly  divine  unction.  We  went  to  church  again  in 
the  afternoon. 

On  Saturday,  April  3,  I  visited  him  at  night,  and 
found  him  sitting  in  Mrs.  Williams's  room  with  her, 
and  one  who  he  afterwards  told  me  was  a  natural  son^ 
of  the  second  Lord  Southwell.  The  table  had  a  singular 
appearance,  being  covered  with  a  heterogeneous  as- 
semblage of  oysters  and  porter  for  his  company,  and 
tea  for  himself.  I  mentioned  my  having  heard  an 
eminent  physician,  who  was  himself  a  Christian,  argue 
in  favour  of  universal  toleration,  and  maintain,  that 
no  man  could  be  hurt  by  another  man's  differing  from 
him  in  opinion.  Johnson  :  '  Sir,  you  are  to  a  certain 
degree  hurt  by  knowing  that  even  one  man  does  not 
believe.' 

On  Easter  Day,  after  solemn  service  at  St.  Paul's,  I 
dined  with  him  :  Mr  Allen  the  printer  was  also  his 
guest.  He  was  uncommonly  silent ;  and  I  have  not 
written  down  anything,  except  a  single  curious  fact, 
which,  having  the  sanction  of  his  inflexible  veracity, 
may  be  received  as  a  striking  instance  of  human  insen- 
sibility and  inconsideration.  As  he  was  passing  by  a 
fishmonger  who  was  skinning  an  eel  alive,  he  heard 
him  '  curse  it,  because  it  would  not  lie  still.' 

On  Wednesday,  April  7,  I  dined  with  him  at  Sir 
Joshua  Reynolds's.  I  have  not  marked  what  company 
was  there.     Johnson  harangued  upon  the  qualities  of 


1  (Mr.  Mauritius  Lowe,  a  painter. — M.] 
VOL.   v. 


82  LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1779 

different  liquors ;  and  spoke  with  great  contempt  of 
claret,  as  so  weak,  that '  a  man  would  be  [drowned  by 
it  before  it  made  him  drunk.'  He  was  persuaded  to 
drink  one  glass  of  it,  that  he  might  judge,  not  from 
recollection,  which  might  be  dim,  but  from  immediate 
sensation.  He  shook  his  head,  and  said,  '  Poor  stuff ! 
No,  sir,  claret  is  the  liquor  for  boys ;  port  for  men  ; 
but  he  who  aspires  to  be  a  hero  (smiling)  must  drink 
brandy.  In  the  first  place,  the  flavour  of  brandy  is 
most  grateful  to  the  palate  ;  and  then  brandy  will  do 
soonest  for  a  man  what  drinking  can  do  for  him. 
There  are,  indeed,  few  who  are  able  to  drink  brandy. 
That  is  a  power  rather  to  be  wished  for  than  attained. 
And  yet  (proceeded  he),  as  in  all  pleasure  hope  is  a 
considerable  part,  I  know  not  but  fruition  comes  too 
quick  by  brandy.  Florence  wine  I  think  the  worst ; 
it  is  wine  only  to  the  eye  ;  it  is  wine  neither  while 
you  are  drinking  it,  nor  after  you  have  drunk  it :  it 
neither  pleases  the  taste,  nor  exhilarates  the  spirits.' 
I  reminded  him  how  heartily  he  and  I  used  to  drink 
wine  together,  when  we  were  first  acquainted ;  and 
how  I  used  to  have  a  headache  after  sitting  up  with 
him.  He  did  not  like  to  have  this  recalled,  or,  per- 
haps thinking  that  I  boasted  improperly,  resolved  to 
have  a  witty  stroke  at  me  :  '  Nay,  sir,  it  was  not  the 
wine  that  made  your  head  ache,  but  the  sense  that  I 
put  into  it '  BoswELL  :  '  What,  sir  !  will  sense  make 
the  head  ache .-' '  Johnson  :  '  Yes,  sir  (with  a  smile), 
when  it  is  not  used  to  it.'  No  man  who  has  a  true 
relish  of  pleasantry  could  be  offended  at  this ;  especially 
if  Johnson  in  a  long  intimacy  had  given  him  repeated 
proofs  of  his  regard  and  good  estimation.  I  used  to 
eay,  that  as  he  had  given  me  £1000  in  praise^  he  had 


jET.yd]    LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON  83 

a  good  right  now  and  then  to  take  a  guinea  from 
me. 

On  Thursday,  April  8,  I  dined  with  him  at  Mr. 
Allan  Ramsay's,  with  Lord  Graham  and  some  other 
company.  We  talked  of  Shakespeare's  witches.  John- 
son :  '  They  are  beings  of  his  own  creation  ;  they  are 
a  compound  [of  malignity  and  meanness,  without  any 
abilities;  and  are  quite  different  from  the  Italian 
magician.  King  James  says  in  his  DcBtnonology, 
"  Magicians  command  the  devils :  witches  are  their 
servants."  The  Italian  magicians  are  elegant  beings.' 
Ramsay  :  *  Opera  witches,  not  Drury  Lane  witches.' 
Johnson  observed  that  abilities  might  be  employed  in 
a  narrow  sphere,  as  in  getting  money,  which  he  said 
he  believed  no  man  could  do,  without  vigorous  parts, 
though  concentrated  to  a  point.  Ramsay  :  '  Yes  ; 
like  a  strong  horse  in  a  mill,  he  pulls  better.' 

Lord  Graham,  while  he  praised  the  beauty  of  Loch 
Lomond,  on  the  banks  of  which  is  his  family  seat, 
complained  of  the  climate,  and  said  he  could  not  bear 
it.  Johnson  :  '  Nay,  my  Lord,  don't  talk  so  :  you 
may  bear  it  well  enough.  Your  ancestors  have  borne 
it  more  years  than  I  can  tell.'  This  was  a  handsome 
compliment  to  the  antiquity  of  the  House  of  Montrose. 
His  Lordship  told  me  afterwards  that  he  had  only 
affected  to  complain  of  the  climate ;  lest,  if  he  had 
spoken  as  favourably  of  his  country  as  he  really 
thought.  Dr.  Johnson  might  have  attacked  it.  John- 
son was  very  courteous  to  Lady  Margaret  Macdonald. 
'  Madam  (said  he),  when  I  was  in  the  Isle  of  Skye,  I 
heard  of  the  people  running  to  take  the  stones  off  the 
road,  lest  Lady  Margaret's  horse  should  stumble.' 

Lord  Graham  commended  Dr.  Drummond  at  Naples 


84  LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1779 

as  a  man  of  extraordinary  talents ;  and  added,  that  he 
had  a  great  love  of  liberty.  Johnson  :  '  He  is  young, 
my  Lord  (looking  to  his  Lordship  with  an  arch  smile) ; 
all  hoys  love  liberty,  till  experience  convinces  them 
they  are  not  so  fit  to  govern  themselves  as  they 
imagined.  We  all  are  agreed  as  to  our  own  liberty ; 
we  would  have  as  much  of  it  as  we  can  get ;  but  we 
are  not  agreed  as  to  the  liberty  of  others ;  for  in  pro- 
portion as  we  take,  others  must  lose.  I  believe  we 
hardly  wish  that  the  mob  should  have  liberty  to  govern 
us.  When  that  was  the  case  some  time  ago,  no  man 
was  at  liberty  not  to  have  candles  in  his  windows.' 
Rahsat  :  '  The  result  is,  that  order  is  better  than 
confusion.'  Johnson  :  'The  result  is,  that  order  can- 
not be  had  but  by  subordination.' 

On  Friday,  April  16,  I  had  been  present  at  the  trial 
of  the  unfortunate  Mr.  Hackman,  who,  in  a  fit  of 
frantic  jealous  love,  had  shot  Miss  Ray,  the  favourite 
of  a  nobleman.^  Johnson,  in  whose  company  I  had 
dined  to-day  with  some  other  friends,  was  much 
interested  by  my  account  of  what  passed,  and  particu- 
larly with  his  prayer  for  the  mercy  of  heaven.  He 
said,  in  a  solemn,  fervid  tone,  'I  hope  he  shall  find 
mercy.' 

This  day  a  violent  altercation  arose  between  Johnson 
and  Beauclerk,  which  having  made  much  noise  at  the 
time,  I  think  it  proper,  in  order  to  prevent  any  future 
misrepresentation,  to  give  a  minute  account  of  it. 

In  talking  of  Hackman,  Johnson  argued,  as  Judge 
Blackstone  had  done,  that  his  being  furnished  with 


1  [The  Earl  of  Sandwich.  Mr.  Basil  Montagu,  an  editor  of 
Bacon,  and  the  father  of  Mrs.  Procter,  was  one  of  the  nine  children  of 
Lord  Sandwich  and  Miss  Ray.     Hackman  was  a  clergyman. — A.  B.] 


yET.  7o]     LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  85 

two  pistols  was  a  proof  that  he  meant  to  shoot  two 
persons.  Mr.  Beauclerk  said,  '  No ;  for  that  every 
wise  man  who  intended  to  shoot  himself,  took  two 
pistols,  that  he  might  be  sure  of  doing  it  at  once. 

Lord  's  cook  shot  himself  with  one  pistol,  and 

lived  ten  days  in  great  agony.     Mr. ,  who  loved 

buttered  muffins,  but  durst  not  eat  them  because  they 
disagreed  with  his  stomach,  resolved  to  shoot  himself; 
and  then  he  ate  three  buttered  muffins  for  breakfast 
before  shooting  himself,  knowing  that  he  should  not 
be  troubled  with  indigestion  :  he  had  two  charged 
pistols ;  one  was  found  lying  charged  upon  the  table 
by  him,  after  he  had  shot  himself  with  the  other.^ 
'  Well  (said  Johnson,  with  an  air  of  triumph),  you  see 
here  one  pistol  was  sufficient).'  Beauclerk  replied 
smartly,  'Because  it  happened  to  kill  him.'  And 
either  then  or  very  little  afterwards,  being  piqued  at 
Johnson's  triumphant  remark,  added,  '  This  is  what 
you  don't  know,  and  I  do.'  There  was  then  a  cessation 
of  the  dispute ;  and  some  minutes  intervened,  during 
which  dinner  and  the  glass  went  on  cheerfully,  when 
Johnson  suddenly  and  abruptly  exclaimed,  '  Mr. 
Beauclerk,  how  came  you  to  talk  so  petulantly  to  me, 
as  'This  is  what  you  don't  know,  but  what  I  know?* 
One  thing  I  know  which  you  don't  seem  to  know,  that 
you  are  very  uncivil '  Beauclerk:  'Because  you 
began  by  being  uncivil  (which  you  always  are).'  The 
words  in  parentheses  were,  I  believe,  not  heard  by  Dr. 
Johnson.  Here  again  there  was  a  cessation  of  arms. 
Johnson  told  me  that  the  reason  why  he  waited  at 
first  some  time  without  taking  any  notice  of  what  Mr. 

1  [This  is  the  origin  of  the  muffin  story  in  Pickwick,  ch.  xliv.    Dickens, 
though  no  reader,  made  an  exception  in  favour  of  Boswell.  —A.  B.] 


86  LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1776 

Beauclerk  said,  was  because  he  was  thinking  whether 
he  should  resent  it.  But  when  he  considered  that  there 
were  present  a  young  Lord  and  an  eminent  traveller, 
two  men  of  the  world  with  whom  he  had  never  dined 
before,  he  was  apprehensive  that  they  might  think 
they  had  a  right  to  take  such  liberties  with  him  as 
Beauclerk  did,  and  therefore  resolved  he  would  not 
let  it  pass ;  adding,  '  that  he  would  not  appear  a 
coward.'  A  little  while  after  this,  the  conversation 
turned  on  the  violence  of  Hackman's  temper.  Johnson 
then  said,  *  It  was  his  business  to  command  his  temper, 
as  my  friend  Mr.  Beauclerk  should  have  done  some 
time  ago.'  Beauclerk  :  '  I  should  learn  of  you,  sir.* 
Johnson  :  '  Sir,  you  have  given  me  opportunities 
enough  of  learning  when  I  have  been  in  your  company. 
No  man  loves  to  be  treated  with  contempt.'  Beau- 
CI.ERK  (with  a  polite  inclination  towards  Johnson): 
'  Sir,  you  have  known  me  twenty  years,  and  however 
I  may  have  treated  others,  you  may  be  sure  I  could 
never  treat  you  with  contempt.'  Johnson  :  '  Sir,  you 
have  said  more  than  was  necessary.'  Thus  it  ended ; 
and  Beauclerk's  coach  not  having  come  for  him  till 
very  late.  Dr.  Johnson  and  another  gentleman  sat 
with  him  a  long  time  after  the  rest  of  the  company 
were  gone ;  and  he  and  I  dined  at  Beauclerk's  on  the 
Saturday  se'nnight  following. 

After  this  tempest  had  subsided,  I  recollect  the 
following  particulars  of  his  conversation  : 

'I  am  always  for  getting  a  boy  forward  in  his 
learning  ;  for  that  is  a  sure  good.  I  would  let  him  at 
first  read  any  English  book  which  happens  to  engage 
his  attention ;  because  you  have  done  a  great  deal 
when  you    have   brought    him    to    have    entertain- 


;et.  7o]    LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON  87 

ment  from  a  book.     He'll  get  better  books  after- 
wards.' 

'  Mallet,  I  believe,  never  wrote  a  single  line  of  his 
projected  Life  of  the  Duke  of  Marlborough.  He  groped 
for  materials,  and  thought  of  it  till  he  had  exhausted 
his  mind.  Thus  it  sometimes  happens  that  men 
entangle  themselves  in  their  own  schemes.' 

'To  be  contradicted  in  order  to  force  you  to  talk, 
is  mighty  unpleasing.  You  shine,  indeed ;  but  it  is 
by  \temg  ground.' 

Of  a  gentleman  who  made  some  figure  among  the 
Literati  of  his  time  (Mr.  Fitzherbert),  he  said,  '  What 
eminence  he  had  was  by  a  felicity  of  manner  :  he  had 
no  more  learning  than  what  he  could  not  help.' 

On  Saturday,  April  24,  I  dined  with  him  at  Mr. 
Beauclerk's,  with  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  Mr.  Jones 
(afterwards  Sir  William),  Mr.  Langton,  Mr.  Steevens, 
Mr.  Paradise,  and  Dr.  Higgins.  I  mentioned  that 
Mr.  Wilkes  had  attacked  Garrick  to  me,  as  a  man 
who  had  no  friend.  Johnson  :  '  I  believe  he  is  right, 
sir,  Ot  ^iXot,  oi)  (f)l\os — He  had  friends,  but  no  friend. 
Garrick  was  so  diffused  he  had  no  man  to  whom  he 
wished  to  unbosom  himself.  He  found  people  always 
ready  to  applaud  him,  and  that  always  for  the  same 
thing ;  so  he  saw  life  with  great  uniformity.'  I  took 
upon  me,  for  once,  to  fight  with  Goliath's  weapons 
and  play  the  sophist.  '  Garrick  did  not  need  a  friend, 
as  he  got  from  everybody  all  that  he  wanted.  What 
is  a  friend  ?  One  who  supports  you  and  comforts  you, 
while  others  do  not.  Friendship,  you  know,  sir,  is 
the  cordial  drop,  *'to  make  the  nauseous  draught  of 
life  go  down  "  :  but  if  the  draught  be  not  nauseous,  if 
it  be  all  sweet,  there  is  no  occasion  for  that  drop.' 


88  LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1779 

Johnson  :  '  Many  men  would  not  be  content  to  live 
so.  I  hope  I  should  not.  They  would  wish  to  have  an 
intimate  friend  with  whom  they  might  compare  minds, 
and  cherish  private  virtues.'  One  of  the  company 
mentioned  Lord  Chesterfield  as  a  man  who  had  no 
friend.  Johnson  :  '  There  were  more  materials  to 
make  friendship  in  Garrick,  had  he  not  been  so 
diffused.'  Boswell  :  'Gari-ick  was  pure  gold,  but 
beat  out  to  thin  leaf.  Lord  Chesterfield  was  tinsel.' 
Johnson  :  '  Garrick  was  a  very  good  man,  the  cheer- 
fullest  man  of  his  age  ;  a  decent  liver  in  a  profession 
which  is  supposed  to  give  indulgence  to  licentiousness; 
and  a  man  who  gave  away,  freely,  money  acquired  by 
himself.  He  began  the  world  with  a  great  hunger  for 
money ;  the  son  of  a  half-pay  officer,  bred  in  a  family 
whose  study  was  to  make  fourpence  do  as  much  as 
others  made  fourpence  halfpenny  do.  But  when  he 
had  got  money,  he  was  very  liberal.'  I  presumed  to 
animadvert  on  his  eulogy  on  Garrick,  in  his  Lives  of 
the  Poets. ^  'You  say,  sir,  his  death  eclipsed  the  gaiety 
of  nations.'  Johnson:  'I  could  not  have  said  more 
nor  less.  It  is  the  truth  :  eclipsed,  not  extinguished ; 
and  his  death  did  eclipse ;  it  was  like  a  storm.'  Bos- 
well :  '  But  why  nations }  Did  his  gaiety  extend 
farther  than  his  own  nation.'*'  Johnson  :  'Why,  sir, 
some  exaggeration  must  be  allowed.  Besides,  nations 
may  be  said — if  we  allow  the  Scotch  to  be  a  nation 
— ^to  have  gaiety, — which  they  have  not.  You  are 
an  exception,  though.  Come,  gentlemen,  let  us 
candidly  admit  that  there  is  one  Scotchman  who  is 
cheerful.'     Beauclerk  :  '  But  he  is  a  very  unnatural 


1  See  the  life  of  Edmund  Smith. 


MT.70]    LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  89 

Scotchman.'  I,  however,  continued  to  think  the 
compliment  to  Garrick  hyperbolically  untrue.  His 
acting  had  ceased  some  time  before  his  death  ;  at  any 
rate  he  had  acted  in  Ireland  but  a  short  time^  at  an 
early  period  of  his  life,  and  never  in  Scotland.  I 
objected  also  to  what  appears  an  anticlimax  of  praise, 
when  contrasted  with  the  preceding  panegyric, — '  and 
diminished  the  public  stock  of  harmless  pleasure  ! ' — 
'  Is  not  harmless  pleasure  very  tame  ? '  Johnson  :  'Nay, 
sir,  harmless  pleasure  is  the  highest  praise.  Pleasure 
is  a  word  of  dubious  import ;  pleasure  is  in  general 
dangerous,  and  pernicious  to  virtue  ;  to  be  able  there- 
fore to  furnish  pleasure  that  is  harmless,  pleasure  pure 
and  unalloyed,  is  as  great  a  power  as  man  can  possess.* 
This  was,  perhaps,  as  ingenious  a  defence  as  could  be 
made  ;  still,  however,  I  was  not  satisfied. 

A  celebrated  wit  being  mentioned,  he  said,  'One 
may  say  of  him  as  was  said  of  a  French  wit,  //  n'a  de 
I'esprit  que  contre  Dieu.  I  have  been  several  times  in 
company  with  him,  but  never  perceived  any  strong 
power  of  wit.  He  produces  a  general  effect  by  various 
means;  he  has  a  cheerful  countenance  and  a  gay 
voice.  Besides,  his  trade  is  wit.  It  would  be  as  wild 
in  him  to  come  into  company  without  merriment, 
as  for  a  highwayman  to  take  the  road  without  his 
pistols.' 

Talking  of  the  effects  of  drinking,  he  said,  '  Drink- 
ing may  be  practised  with  great  prudence  ;  a  man  who 
exposes  himself  when  he  is  intoxicated,  has  not  the 
art  of  getting  drunk ;  a  sober  man  who  happens 
occasionally  to  get  drunk,  readily  enough  goes  into  a 
new  company,  which  a  man  who  has  been  drinking 
should  never  do.     Such  a  man  will  undertake  any- 


90  LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1779 

thing ;  he  is  without  skill  in  inebriation.  I  used  to 
slink  home  when  I  had  drunk  too  much.  A  man 
accustomed  to  self-examination  will  be  conscious  when 
he  is  drunk,  though  an  habitual  drunkard  will  not  be 
conscious  of  it.  I  knew  a  physician,  who  for  twenty 
years  was  not  sober;  yet  in  a  pamphlet,  which  he 
wrote  upon  fevers,  he  appealed  to  Garrick  and  me  for 
his  vindication  from  a  charge  of  drunkenness.  A 
bookseller  (naming  him)  who  got  a  large  fortune  by 
trade,  was  so  habitually  and  equally  drunk,  that  his 
most  intimate  friends  never  perceived  that  he  was 
more  sober  at  one  time  than  another.* 

Talking  of  celebrated  and  successful  irregular  prac- 
tisers  injphysic,  he  said,  '  Taylor^  was  the  most  ignorant 
man  I  ever  knew,  but  sprightly :  Ward,  the  dullest. 
Taylor  challenged  me  once  to  talk  Latin  with  him 
(laughing).  I  quoted  some  of  Horace,  which  he  took 
to  be  a  part  of  my  own  speech.  He  said  a  few  words 
well  enough.'  Beauclerk:  'I  remember,  sir,  you 
said  that  Taylor  was  an  instance  how  far  impudence 
could  carry  ignorance.'  Mr.  Beauclerk  was  very 
entertaining  this  day,  and  told  us  a  number  of  short 
stories  in  a  lively,  elegant  manner,  and  with  that  air  of 
the  world  which  has  I  know  not  what  impressive  effect, 
as  if  there  were  something  more  than  is  expressed,  or 
than  perhaps  we  could  perfectly  understand.  As 
Johnson  and  I  accompanied  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  in 
his  coach,  Johnson  said,  '  There  is  in  Beauclerk  a  pre- 
dominance over  his  company,  that  one  does  not  like. 
But  he  is  a  man  who  has  lived  so  much  in  the  world, 
that  he  has  a  short  story  on  every  occasion ;  he  is 
always  ready  to  talk,  and  is  never  exhausted.' 

1  [The  Chevalier  Taylor,  the  celebrated  oculist.— M.] 


JET.  7o]     LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON  91 

Johnson  and  I  passed  the  evening  at  Miss  Rey- 
nolds's, Sir  Joshua's  sister.  I  mentioned  that  an 
eminent  friend  of  ours,  talking  of  the  common  re- 
mark, that  affection  descends,  said,  that  'this  was 
wisely  contrived  for  the  preservation  of  mankind ;  for 
which  it  was  not  so  necessary  that  there  should  be 
affection  from  children  to  parents,  as  from  parents  to 
children ;  nay,  there  would  be  no  harm  in  that  view 
though  children  should  at  a  certain  age  eat  their 
parents.'  Johnson:  *But,  sir,  if  this  were  known 
generally  to  be  the  case,  parents  would  not  have  affec- 
tion for  children. '  Boswell  :  *  True,  sir ;  for  it  is 
in  expectation  of  a  return  that  parents  are  so  atten- 
tive to  their  children ;  and  I  know  a  very  pretty 
instance  of  a  little  girl  of  whom  her  father  was  very 
fond,  who  once,  when  he  was  in  a  melancholy  fit,  and 
had  gone  to  bed,  persuaded  him  to  rise  in  good 
humour  by  saying,  "  My  dear  papa,  please  to  get  up, 
and  let  me  help  you  on  with  your  clothes,  that  I  may 
learn  to  do  it  when  you  are  an  old  man."' 

Soon  after  this  time  a  little  incident  occurred  which 
I  will  not  suppress,  because  I  am  desirous  that  my 
work  should  be,  as  much  as  is  consistent  with  the 
strictest  truth,  an  antidote  to  the  false  and  injurious 
notions  of  his  characters  which  have  been  given  by 
others,  and  therefore  I  infuse  every  drop  of  genuine 
sweetness  into  my  biographical  cup. 

TO   DR.  JOHNSON 

'Mt  DEA.K  Sir, — I  am  in  great  pain  with  an  inflamed  foot, 
and  obliged  to  keep  my  bed,  so  am  prevented  from  having  the 
pleasure  to  dine  at  Mr.  Ramsay's  to-day,  which  is  very  hard ; 
and  my  spirits  are  sadly  sunk.    Will  you  be  so  friendly  as  to 


92  LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1779 

come  and  sit  an  hour  with  me  in  the  evening. — I  am  ever  your 
most  faithful  and  affectionate  humble  servant, 

'James  Bosweli. 
'  South  Audley  Street, 
^Movday,  April  2&.' 


TO   SIR.  BOSWELL 

'  Mr.  Johnson  laments  the  absence  of  Mr.  Boswell,  and  will 
come  to  him. 
'  Earley  Street.' 

He  came  to  me  in  the  evening,  and  brought  Sir 
Joshua  Reynolds.  I  need  scarcely  say  that  their 
conversation,  whUe  they  sat  by  my  bedside,  was  the 
most  pleasing  opiate  to  pain  that  could  have  been 
administered. 

Johnson  being  now  better  disposed  to  obtain  infor- 
mation concerning  Pope  than  he  was  last  year,  sent 
by  me  to  my  Lord  Marchmont,  a  present  of  those 
volumes  of  his  Lives  of  the  Poets,  which  were  at  this 
time  published,  with  a  request  to  have  permission  to 
wait  on  him  ;  and  his  Lordship,  who  had  called  on 
him  twice,  obligingly  appointed  Saturday,  the  1st  of 
May,  for  receiving  us. 

On  that  morning  Johnson  came  to  me  from  Streat- 
ham,  and  after  drinking  chocolate  at  General  Paoli's, 
in  South  Audley  Street,  we  proceeded  to  Lord  March- 
mont's  in  Curzon  Street.  His  Lordship  met  us  at  the 
door  of  his  library,  and  with  great  politeness  said  to 
Johnson,  '  I  am  not  going  to  make  an  encomium  upon 
myself,  by  telling  you  the  high  respect  I  have  for  you, 
sir.'  Johnson  was  exceedingly  courteous  ;  and  the  in- 
terview, which  lasted  about  two  hours,  during  which 
the  Earl  communicated  his  anecdotes  of  Pope,  was  as 


jET.  7o]    LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON  93 

agreeable  as  I  could  have  wished.  When  we  came 
out,  I  said  to  Johnson,  that  considering  his  Lordship's 
civility,  I  should  have  been  vexed  if  he  had  again 
failed  to  come.  'Sir  (said  he),  I  would  rather  have 
given  twenty  pounds  than  not  have  come.'  I  accom- 
panied him  to  Streatham,  where  we  dined,  and  re- 
turned to  town  in  the  evening. 

On  Monday,  May  3,  I  dined  with  him  at  Mr. 
Dilly's ;  I  pressed  him  this  day  for  his  opinion  on  the 
passage  on  Parnell,  concerning  which  I  had  in  vain 
questioned  him  in  several  letters,  and  at  length  ob- 
tained it  in  due  form  of  law. 

'  Case  for  Dr.  Johnson's  Opinion : 
3rd  of  May  1779. 

*  Pabnell,  in  his  Hermit ,  has  the  following  passa^je : 

'*  To  clear  this  doubt,  to  know  the  world  by  sight, 
To  find  if  hooks  and  swains  report  it  right ; 
(For  yet  by  swains  aione  the  world  he  knew, 
Whose  feet  came  wand'ring  o'er  the  nightly  dew)." 

Is  there  not  a  contradiction  in  its  being  first  supposed 
that  the  Hermit  knew  both  what  books  and  swains  re- 
ported of  the  world  ;  yet  afterwards  said,  that  he  knew 
it  by  swains  alone  }' 

'  I  think  it  an  inaccuracy.     He  mentions  two 
instructors  in  the  first  line,  and  says  he  had  only 
one  in  the  next. '  ^ 
This  evening  I  set  out  for  Scotland. 


1  '  I  do  not  (says  Mr.  Malone)  see  any  difficulty  in  this  passage,  and 
wonder  that  Dr.  Johnson  should  have  acknowledged  it  to  be  in- 
accurate.  The  Hermit,  it  should  be  observed,  had  no  actual  ex- 
perience of  the  world  whatsoever  :  all  his  knowledge  concerning  it  had 
been  obtained  in  two  ways ;  from  books,  and  from  the  relations  of 
those  country  swains,  who  had  seen  a  little  of  it.     The  plain  meaning. 


94  LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1779 

TO   MRS.   LUCY    PORTER    IN    LICHFIELD 

'Dbab  Madam, — Mr.  Green  has  informed  me  that  you  are 
much  better ;  I  hope  I  need  not  tell  you  that  I  am  glad  of  it. 
I  cannot  boast  of  being  much  better ;  my  old  nocturnal  com- 
plaint still  pursues  me,  and  my  respiration  is  difficult,  though 
much  easier  than  when  I  left  you  the  sunmier  before  last. 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Thrale  are  well ;  Miss  has  been  a  little  indis- 
posed ;  but  she  is  got  well  again.  They  have  since  the  loss 
of  their  boy  had  two  daughters ;  but  they  seem  likely  to  want 
a  son. 

*I  hope  you  had  some  books  which  I  sent  you.  I  was  sorry 
for  poor  Mrs.  Adey's  death,  and  am  afraid  you  will  be  some- 
times solitary ;  but  endeavour,  whether  alone  or  in  company, 
to  keep  yourself  cheerfuL  My  friends  likewise  die  very  fast ; 
but  such  is  the  state  of  man. — I  am,  dear  love,  your  most 
humble  servant,  Sam.  Johnson. 

'May  4,  1779.' 

He  had,  before  I  left  London,  resumed  the  conver- 
sation concerning  the  appearance  of  a  ghost  at  New- 
castle-upon-Tyne, which  Mr.   John  Wesley  believed. 


therefore,  is,  "To  clear  his  doubts  concerning  Providence,  and  to 
obtain  some  knowledge  of  the  world  by  actual  experience ;  to  see 
whether  the  accounts  furnished  by  books,  or  by  the  oral  communi- 
cations of  swains,  were  just  representations  of  it :  [I  say,  swains]  for 
his  oral  or  vivd  voce  information  had  been  obtained  from  that  part  of 
mankind  alone,  etc."  The  word  alone  here  does  not  relate  to  the 
whole  of  the  preceding  line,  as  has  been  supposed,  but,  by  a  common 
licence,  to  the  words,  of  all  tnankind,  which  are  understood,  and  of 
which  It  is  restrictive.' 

Mr.  Malone,  it  must  be  owned,  has  shown  much  critical  ingenuity  in 
his  explanation  of  this  passage.  His  interpretation,  however,  seems  to 
me  much  too  recondite.  The  meaning  of  the  passage  may  be  certain 
enough  ;  but  surely  the  expression  is  confused,  and  one  part  of  it  con- 
tradictory to  the  other. 

[But  why  too  recondite'i  When  a  meaning  is  given  to  a  passage 
by  understanding  words  in  an  uncommon  sense,  the  interpretation  may 
be  said  to  be  recondite,  and,  however  ingenious,  may  be  suspected 
not  to  be  sound ;  hut  when  words  are  explained  in  their  ordinary  ac- 
ceptation, and  the  explication  which  is  fairly  deduced  from  them 
without  any  force  or  constraint  is  also  perfectly  justified  by  the  con- 
text, it  surely  may  be  safely  accepted  ;  and  the  calling  such  an  explica- 
tion recondite,  when  nothing  else  can  be  said  against  it,  will  not  nu^ 
it  the  less  just. — M.] 


iET.  7o]     LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON  95 

but  to  which  Johnson  did  not  give  credit.  I  was, 
however,  desirous  to  examine  the  question  closely, 
and  at  the  same  time  wished  to  be  made  acquainted 
with  Mr.  John  Wesley ;  for  though  I  differed  from 
him  in  some  points,  I  admired  his  various  talents, 
and  loved  his  pious  zeal.  At  my  request,  there- 
fore, Dr.  Johnson  gave  me  a  letter  of  introduction 
to  him. 

TO   THE   BEV.  MB.  JOHN   WESLEY 

'  Sib, — Mr.  Boswell,  a  gentleman  who  has  been  long  known 
to  me,  is  desirous  of  being  known  to  you,  and  has  asked  this 
recommendation,  which  I  give  him  with  great  willingness, 
because  I  think  it  very  much  to  be  wished  that  worthy  and 
religious  men  should  be  acquainted  with  each  other. — I  am, 
Bir,  your  most  humble  servant,  Sau.  Johnson. 

'May  $,1779.' 

Mr.  Wesley  being  in  the  course  of  his  ministry  at 
Edinburgh,  I  presented  this  letter  to  him,  and  was 
very  politely  received.  I  begged  to  have  it  returned 
to  me,  which  was  accordingly  done.  His  state  of  the 
evidence  as  to  the  ghost  did  not  satisfy  me. 

I  did  not  write  to  Johnson,  as  usual,  upon  my 
return  to  my  famUy ;  but  tried  how  he  would  be 
affected  by  my  silence.  Mr.  Dilly  sent  me  a  copy  of  a 
note  which  he  received  from  him  on  the  13th  of  July, 
in  these  words : 

TO   UB.  DILLY 

'Sm, — Since  Mr.  Boswell's  departure  I  have  never  beard 
from  him ;  please  to  send  word  what  you  know  of  him,  and 
whether  you  have  sent  my  books  to  his  lady.— I  am,  etc., 

'  Sam.  Johnson.' 


96  LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON        [1779 

My  readers  will  not  doubt  that  his  solitude  about 
me  was  very  flattering. 


TO   JAMES   BOSWELL,  ESQ. 

'Deae  Sir, — "What  can  possibly  have  happened,  that  keeps 
na  two  such  strangers  to  each  other?  I  expected  to  have 
heard  from  you  when  you  came  home ;  I  expected  afterwards. 
I  went  into  the  country  and  returned,  and  yet  there  is  no 
letter  from  ]VIr.  Boswell.  No  ill. I  hope  has  happened ;  and  if 
ill  should  happen,  why  should  it  be  concealed  from  him  who 
loves  you  ?  Is  it  a  fit  of  humour,  that  has  disposed  you  to  try 
who  can  hold  out  longest  without  writing  ?  If  it  be,  you  have 
the  victory.  But  I  am  afraid  of  something  bad ;  set  me  free 
from  my  suspicions. 

'My  thoughts  are  at  present  employed  in  guessing  the 
reason  of  your  silence :  you  must  not  expect  that  I  should 
tell  you  anything,  if  I  had  anything  to  tell.  Write,  pray 
write  to  me,  and  let  me  know  what  is,  or  what  has  been  the 
cause  of  this  long  interruption. — I  am,  dear  sir,  your  most 
affectionate  humble  servant,  Sam.  Johi;son. 

'  July  13,  1779.' 


TO   DR.  SAMUEL  JOHNSON 

•  Edinburgh,  July  17,  1779. 
*Mt  deak  Sib, — What  may  be  justly  denominated  a  supine 
indolence  of  mind  has  been  my  state  of  existence  since  I  last 
returned  to  Scotland.  In  a  livelier  state  I  had  often  suffered 
severely  from  long  intervals  of  silence  on  your  part ;  and  I 
had  even  been  chid  by  you  for  expressing  my  uneasiness.  I 
was  willing  to  take  advantage  of  my  insensibility,  and  while 
I  covdd  bear  the  experiment,  to  try  whether  your  affection  for 
me  would,  after  an  unusual  silence  on  my  part,  make  you 
write  first.  This  afternoon  I  have  had  very  high  satisfaction 
by  receiving  your  kind  letter  of  inquiry,  for  which  I  most 
gratefully  thank  you.  I  am  doubtful  if  it  was  right  to  make 
the  experiment ;  though  I  have  gained  by  it.  I  was  beginning 
to  grow  tender,  and  to  upbraid  myself,  especially  after  having 
dreamt  two  nights  ago  that  I  was  with  you.    I  and  my  wife. 


MH.jd]    LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON  97 

and  my  four  children,  are  all  welL  I  would  not  delay  one 
post  to  answer  your  letter ;  but  as  it  is  late,  I  have  not  time 
to  do  more.  You  shall  soon  hear  from  me,  upon  many  and 
various  particulars ;  and  I  shall  never  again  put  you  to  any 
test. — I  am,  with  veneration,  my  dear  sir,  your  much  obliged 
and  faithful  himible  servant,  Jakes  Boswell.' 

On  the  22nd  of  July,  I  wrote  to  him  again ;  and 
gave  him  an  account  of  my  last  interview  with  my 
worthy  friend  Mr.  Edward  Dilly,  at  his  brother's 
house,  at  Southill,  in  Bedfordshire,  where  he  died 
soon  after  I  parted  from  him,  leaving  me  a  very  kind 
remembrance  of  his  regard. 

I  informed  him  that  Lord  Hailes,  who  had  promised 
to  furnish  him  with  some  anecdotes  for  his  Lives  of  the 
Poets,  had  sent  me  three  instances  of  Prior's  borrow- 
ing from  Gombauld,  in  Recueil  des  Poetes,  tome  3. 
Epigram  'To  John  I  owed  great  obligation,'  p.  26. 
*To  the  Duke  of  Noailles,  p.  32.  'Sauntering  Jack 
and  Idle  Joan,'  p.  25. 

My  letter  was  a  pretty  long  one,  and  contained  a 
variety  of  particulars ;  but  he,  it  should  seem,  had  not 
attended  to  it ;  for  his  next  to  me  was  as  follows : 

TO   JAMES   BOSWELL,  ESQ.  '^ 

'My  dear  Sir, — Are  you  playing  the  same  trick  again,  and 
trying  who  can  keep  silence  longest?  Remember  that  all 
tricks  are  either  knavish  or  childish  ;  and  that  it  is  as  foolish 
to  make  experiments  upon  the  constancy  of  a  friend,  as  upon 
the  chastity  of  a  wife. 

'  What  can  be  the  cause  of  this  second  fit  of  silence,  I  can- 
not conjecture ;  but  after  one  trick,  I  will  not  be  cheated  by 
another,  nor  will  harass  my  thoughts  with  conjectures  about 
the  motives  of  a  man  who,  probably,  acts  only  by  caprice. 
I  therefore  suppose  you  are  well,  and  that  Mrs.  Boswell  ia 
well  too :  and  that  the  fine  summer  has  restored  Lord  Auchin- 


98  LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON        [1779 

leek.  I  am  much  better  than  you  left  me ;  I  think  I  am 
better  than  when  I  was  in  Scotland. 

'  I  forgot  whether  I  informed  you  that  poor  Thrale  has  been 
in  great  danger.  Mrs.  Thrale  likewise  has  miscarried,  and 
been  much  indisposed.  Everybody  else  is  well ;  Langton  is 
in  camp.  I  intend  to  put  Lord  Hailes'  description  of  Dryden  ^ 
into  another  edition,  and  as  I  know  his  accuracy,  wish  he 
would  consider  the  dates,  which  I  could  not  always  settle  to 
my  own  mind. 

'Mr.  Thrale  goes  to  Brighthelmstone  about  Michaelmas, 
to  be  jolly  and  ride  a  hunting.  I  shall  go  to  town,  or  perhaps 
to  Oxford.  Exercise  and  gaiety,  or  rather  carelessness,  will, 
I  hope,  dissipate  all  remains  of  his  malady ;  and  I  likewise 
hope,  by  the  change  of  place,  to  find  some  opportunities  of 
growing  yet  better  myself. — I  am,  dear  sir,  your  humble 
servant,  'Sam.  Johnson. 

'Streatham,  Sept.  9,  1779.' 

My  readers  will  not  be  displeased  at  being  told 
every  slight  circumstance  of  the  manner  in  which 
Dr.  Johnson  contrived  to  amuse  his  solitary  hours. 
He  sometimes  employed  himself  in  chemistry,  some- 
times in  watering  and  pruning  a  vine,  sometimes  in 
small  experiments,  at  which  those  who  may  smile 
should  recollect  that  they  are  moments  which  admit 
of  being  soothed  only  by  trifles.  ^ 

1  Which  I  communicated  to  him  from  his  Lordship,  but  it  has  not 
yet  been  published.     I  have  a  copy  of  it. 

[The  few  notices  concerning  Dryden,  which  Lord  Hailes  had  col- 
lected, the  author  afterwards  gave  to  Mr.  Malone. — M.] 

2  In  one  of  his  manuscript  Diaries,  there  is  the  following  entry, 
which  marks  his  curious  minute  attention  :  '  July  26,  1768.  I  shaved 
my  nail  by  accident  in  whetting  the  knife  about  an  eighth  of  an  inch 
from  the  bottom,  and  about  a  fourth  from  the  top.  This  I  measure 
that  1  may  know  the  growth  of  nails :  the  whole  is  about  five 
eighths  of  an  inch.' 

Another  of  the  same  kind  appears,  'Aug.  7,  1779:  Partem  brachii 
dextri  carpo  proximam  et  cutem  pectoris  circa  tnamillatn  dextram 
rasi,  ut  notutnjieret  quanta  temporis  pili  renovarentur' 

And,  '  Aug.  IS,  1783  :  I  cut  from  the  vine  41  leaves,  which  weighed 
five  oz.  and  a  half  and  eight  scruples.  I  lay  them  upon  my  bookcase 
to  see  wliat  weight  they  will  lose  by  drying.' 


>ET.  7i]    LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  99 

On  the  20th  of  September  I  defended  myself  against 
his  suspicion  of  me,  which  I  did  not  deserve ;  and 
added,  'Pray,  let  us  write  frequently.  A  whim 
strikes  me,  that  we  should  send  oflF  a  sheet  once  a 
week,  like  a  stage-coach,  whether  it  be  full  or  not; 
nay,  though  it  should  be  empty.  The  very  sight  of 
your  handwriting  would  comfort  me :  and  were  a 
sheet  to  be  thus  sent  regularly,  we  should  much 
oflener  convey  something,  were  it  only  a  few  kind 
words.' 

My  friend  Colonel  James  Stuart,  second  son  of  the 
Earl  of  Bute,  who  had  distinguished  himself  as  a  good 
officer  of  the  Bedfordshire  Militia,  had  taken  a  public- 
spirited  resolution  to  serve  his  country  in  its  difficulties, 
by  raising  a  regular  regiment,  and  taking  the  command 
of  it  himself.  This,  in  the  heir  of  the  immense  pro- 
perty of  Wortley,  was  highly  honourable.  Having 
been  in  Scotland  recruiting,  he  obligingly  asked  me 
to  accompany  him  to  Leeds,  then  the  headquarters  of 
his  corps :  from  thence  to  London  for  a  short  time, 
and  afterwards  to  other  places  to  which  the  regiment 
might  be  ordered.  Such  an  offer,  at  a  time  of  the 
year  when  I  had  full  leisure,  was  very  pleasing ; 
especially  as  I  was  to  accompany  a  man  of  sterling 
good  sense,  information,  discernment,  and  convivi- 
ality ;  and  was  to  have  a  second  crop,  in  one  year,  of 
London  and  Johnson.  Of  this  I  informed  my  illus- 
trious friend,  in  characteristical  warm  terms,  in  a 
letter  dated  the  30th  of  September,  from  Leeds. 

On  Monday,  October  4,  I  called  at  his  house  before 
he  was  up.  He  sent  for  me  to  his  bedside,  and 
expressed  his  satisfaction  at  this  incidental  meeting, 
with  as  much  vivacity  as  if  he  had  been  in  the  gaiety 


100  LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1779 

of  youth.  He  called  briskly,  'Frank,  go  and  get 
coflFee,  and  let  us  breakfast  in  splendour.' 

During  this  visit  to  London  I  had  several  interviews 
with  him,  which  it  is  unnecessary  to  distinguish  par- 
ticularly. I  consulted  him  as  to  the  appointment  of 
guardians  to  my  children,  in  case  of  my  death.  '  Sir 
(said  he),  do  not  appoint  a  number  of  guardians. 
When  there  are  many,  they  trust  one  to  another,  and 
the  business  is  neglected.  I  would  advise  you  to  choose 
only  one ;  let  him  be  a  man  of  respectable  character, 
who,  for  his  own  credit,  will  do  what  is  right ;  let  him 
be  a  rich  man,  so  that  he  may  be  under  no  temptation 
to  take  advantage ;  and  let  him  be  a  man  of  business, 
who  is  used  to  conduct  affairs  with  ability  and  expert- 
ness,  to  whom,  therefore,  the  execution  of  the  trust 
will  not  be  burdensome.' 

On  Sunday,  October  10,  we  dined  together  at  Mr. 
Strahan  s.  The  conversation  having  turned  on  the 
prevailing  practice  of  going  to  the  East  Indies  in 
quest  of  wealth  ; — Johnson  :  '  A  man  had  better  have 
£10,000  at  the  end  of  ten  years  passed  in  England, 
than  £20,000  at  the  end  of  ten  years  passed  in  India, 
because  you  must  compute  what  you  give  for  money  ; 
and  a  man  who  has  lived  ten  years  in  India,  has  given 
up  ten  years  of  social  comfort,  and  all  those  advantages 
which  arise  from  living  in  England.  The  ingenious 
Mr.  Brown,  distinguished  by  the  name  of  Capability 
Brovm,  told  me  that  he  was  once  at  the  seat  of  Lord 
Clive,  who  had  returned  from  India  with  great  wealth ; 
and  that  he  showed  him  at  the  door  of  his  bed-chamber 
a  large  chest,  which  he  said  he  had  once  had  full  ot 
gold ;  upon  which  Brown  observed,  "  I  am  glad  you 
can  bear  it  so  near  your  bed-chamber. " ' 


iET.  7i]    LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  101 

We  talked  of  the  state  of  the  poor  in  London. 
Johnson  :  '  Saunders  Welch,  the  Justice,  who  was 
once  high  constable  of  Holborn,  and  had  the  best 
opportunities  of  knowing  the  state  of  the  poor,  told 
me  that  I  underrated  the  number,  when  I  computed 
that  twenty  a  week,  that  is  above  a  thousand  a  year, 
died  of  hunger ;  not  absolutely  of  immediate  hunger  ; 
but  of  the  wasting  and  other  diseases  which  are  the 
consequences  of  hunger.  This  happens  only  in  so 
large  a  place  as  London,  where  people  are  not  known. 
What  we  are  told  about  the  great  sums  got  by  begging 
is  not  true — the  trade  is  overstocked.  And,  you  may 
depend  upon  it,  there  are  many  who  cannot  get  work. 
A  particular  kind  of  manufacture  fails ;  those  who 
have  been  used  to  work  at  it  can,  for  some  time,  work 
at  nothing  else.  You  meet  a  man  begging ;  you 
charge  him  with  idleness :  he  says,  "  I  am  willing 
to  labour.  Will  you  give  me  work.''"  ''I  cannot." 
"Why,  then,  you  have  no  right  to  charge  me  with 
idleness." ' 

We  left  Mr.  Strahan's  at  seven,  as  Johnson  had  said 
he  intended  to  go  to  evening  prayers.  As  we  walked 
along  he  complained  of  a  little  gout  in  his  toe,  and 
said,  'I  shan't  go  to  prayers  to-night;  I  shall  go 
to-morrow.  Whenever  I  miss  church  on  a  Sunday, 
I  resolve  to  go  another  day.  But  I  do  not  always  do 
it.'  This  was  a  fair  exhibition  of  that  vibration  between 
pious  resolutions  and  indolence,  which  many  of  us 
have  too  often  experienced. 

I  went  home  with  him,  and  we  had  a  long,  quiet 
conversation. 

I  read  him  a  letter  from  Dr.  Hugh  Blair  con- 
cerning Pope  (in  writing  whose    life  he  was   now 


102  LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON        [1779 

employed),  which  I  shall  insert  as  a  literary  curio- 


sity.^ 


TO   JAMES    BOSWELL,  ESQ. 


'DxAB  Sib, — In  the  year  1763,  being  at  London,  I  was 
carried  by  Dr.  John  Blair,  Prebendary  of  Westminster,  to  dine 
at  old  Lord  Bathurst's ;  where  we  found  the  late  ]Mr.  Mallet, 
Sir  James  Porter,  who  had  been  ambassador  at  Constantinople, 
the  late  Dr.  Macaulay,  and  two  or  three  more.  The  conver- 
sation turning  on  Mr.  Pope,  Lord  Bathurst  told  us  that  the 
Essay  on  Man  was  originally  composed  by  Lord  Bolingbroke 
in  prose,  and  that  Mr.  Pope  did  no  more  than  put  it  into 
verse :  that  he  had  read  Lord  Bolingbroke's  manuscript  in  his 
own  handwriting;  and  remembered  well,  that  he  was  at  a 
loss  whether  most  to  admire  the  elegance  of  Lord  Boling- 
broke's prose  or  the  beauty  of  IMr.  Pope's  verse.  When  Lord 
Bathurst  told  this,  Mr.  Mallet  bade  me  attend,  and  remember 
this  remarkable  piece  of  information ;  as,  by  the  course  of 
Nature,  I  might  survive  his  Lordship,  and  be  a  witness  of  his 
having  said  so.  The  conversation  was  indeed  too  remarkable 
to  be  forgotten.  A  few  days  after,  meeting  with  you,  who 
were  then  also  at  London,  you  will  remember  that  I  mentioned 
to  you  what  had  passed  on  this  subject,  as  I  was  much  struck 
with  this  anecdote.  But  what  ascertains  my  recollection  of  it 
beyond  doubt,  is,  that  being  accustomed  to  keep  a  journal  of 
what  passed  when  I  was  at  London,  which  I  wrote  out  every 
evening,  I  find  the  particulars  of  the  above  information,  just 


1  The  Rev.  Dr.  Law,  Bishop  of  Carlisle,  in  the  Preface  to  his 
valuable  edition  of  Archbishop's  King's  Essa^  on  the  Origin  of  Evil, 
mentions  that  the  principles  maintained  in  it  had  been  adopted  by 
Pope  in  his  Essay  on  Man ;  and  adds,  '  The  fact,  notwithstanding  such 
denial  (Bishop  Warburton's)  might  have  been  strictly  verified  by  an 
unexceptionable  testimony,  viz.,  that  of  the  late  Lord  Bathurst,  who 
saw  the  very  same  system  of  the  to  ^iXriov  (taken  from  the  Archbishop) 
in  Lord  Bolingbroke's  own  hand,  lying  before  Mr.  Pope,  while  he  was 
composing  his  Essay.'  This  is  respectable  evidence  ;  but  that  of  Dr. 
Blair  is  more  direct  from  the  fountain-head,  as  well  as  more  full.  Let 
me  add  to  it  that  of  Dr.  Joseph  Warton  :  '  The  late  Lord  Bathurst 
repeatedly  assured  me  that  he  had  read  the  whole  scheme  of  the  Essay 
on  Man,  in  the  handwriting  of  Bolingbroke,  and  drawn  up  in  a  series 
of  propositions,  which  Pope  was  to  versify  and  illustrate.  — Essay  on 
the  Genius  and  Writings  of  Pope,  vol.  ii.  p.  62, 


JET.yi]    LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON  103 

as  I  have  now  given  them,  distinctly  marked ;  and  am  thence 
enabled  to  fix  this  conversation  to  have  passed  on  Friday, 
the  22nd  of  April  1763. 

'  I  remember  £ilso  distinctly  (though  I  have  not  for  this  the 
authority  of  my  Journal),  that  the  conversation  going  on 
concerning  Mr.  Pope,  I  took  notice  of  a  report  which  had 
been  sometimes  propagated  that  he  did  not  understand  Greek. 
Lord  Bathurst  said  to  me  that  he  knew  that  to  be  false ;  for 
the  part  of  the  Hiad  was  translated  by  Mr,  Pope  in  his  house 
in  the  country ;  and  that  in  the  morning  when  they  assembled 
at  breakfast,  Mr.  Pope  used  frequently  to  repeat,  with  great 
rapture,  the  Greek  lines  which  he  had  been  translating,  and 
then  to  give  them  his  version  of  them,  and  to  compare  them 
together. 

'  If  these  circumstances  can  be  of  any  use  to  Dr.  Johnson, 
you  have  my  full  liberty  to  give  them  to  him.  I  beg  you  will, 
at  the  same  time,  present  to  him  my  most  respectful  compli- 
ments, with  best  wishes  for  his  success  and  fame  in  all  his 
literary  undertakings. — I  am,  with  great  respect,  my  dearest 
sir,  your  most  affectionate  and  obliged  humble  servant, 

Hugh  Bi.aib. 

'Broughton  Park,  Sept.  21,  1779.' 

Johnson  :  '  Depend  upon  it,  sir,  this  is  too  strongly 
stated.  Pope  may  have  had  from  Bolingbroke  the 
philosophic  stamina  of  his  Essay ;  and  admitting  this 
to  be  true.  Lord  Bathurst  did  not  intentionally  falsify. 
But  the  thing  is  not  true  in  the  latitude  that  Blair 
seems  to  imagine ;  we  are  sure  that  the  poetical 
imagery,  which  makes  a  gpreat  part  of  the  poem,  was 
Pope's  own.  It  is  amazing,  sir,  what  deviations  there 
are  from  precise  truth,  in  the  account  which  is  given 
of  almost  everything.  I  told  Mrs.  Thrale,  "You 
have  so  little  anxiety  about  truth,  that  you  never  tax 
your  memory  with  the  exact  thing."  Now,  what  is 
the  use  of  the  memory  to  truth,  if  one  is  careless  of 
exactness?    Lord  Hailes'  Annals  of  Scotland  are  very 


104  LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON       [1779 

exact ;  but  they  contain  mere  dry  particulars.  They 
are  to  be  considered  as  a  Dictionary.  You  know  such 
things  are  there ;  and  may  be  looked  at  when  you 
please.  Robertson  paints ;  but  the  misfortune  is, 
you  are  sure  he  does  not  know  the  people  whom  he 
paints ;  so  you  cannot  suppose  a  likeness.  Characters 
should  never  be  given  by  an  historian,  unless  he  knew 
the  people  whom  he  describes,  or  copies  from  those 
who  knew  them.' 

BoswELL :  '  Why,  sir,  do  people  play  this  trick 
which  I  observe  now,  when  I  look  at  your  grate, 
putting  the  shovel  against  it  to  make  the  fire  burn  ? ' 
Johnson  :  '  They  play  the  trick,  but  it  does  not  make 
the  fire  burn.  There  is  a  better  (setting  the  poker  per- 
pendicularly at  right  angles  with  the  grate).  In  days 
of  superstition  they  thought,  as  it  made  a  cross  with 
the  bars,  it  would  drive  away  the  witch.' 

BoswELL  :  '  By  associating  with  you,  sir,  I  am  always 
getting  an  accession  of  wisdom.  But  perhaps  a  man, 
after  knowing  his  own  character — the  limited  strength 
of  his  own  mind,  should  not  be  desirous  of  having  too 
much  wisdom,  considering,  quid  valeant  humeri,  how 
little  he  can  carry.'  Johnson  :  '  Sir,  be  as  wise  as  you 
can  ;  let  a  man  be  aliis  Icetus  sapiens  sibi : 

"  Though  pleased  to  see  the  dolphins  play, 
I  mind  my  compass  and  my  way."  ^ 

You  may  be  as  wise  in  your  study  in  the  morning,  and 
gay  in  company  at  a  tavern  in  the  evening.     Every 
man  is  to  take  care  of  his  own  wisdom  and  his  own 
virtue  without  minding  too  much  what  others  think. ' 
He  said, '  Dodsley  first  mentioned  to  me  the  scheme 

1  The  Spleen,  a  poem. 


iET.  7i]     LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON  105 

of  an  English  Dictionary  ;  but  I  had  long  thought  of 
it.'  Bos  well:  'You  did  not  know  what  you  were 
undertaking.'  Johnson  :  '  Yes,  sir,  I  knew  very  well 
what  I  was  undertaking — and  very  well  how  to  do  it — 
and  have  done  it  very  well.'  Boswell  :  '  An  excellent 
climax  !  and  it  has  availed  you.  In  your  Preface  you 
say,  "  What  would  it  avail  me  in  this  gloom  of  soli- 
tude ?  "     You  have  been  agreeably  mistaken. ' 

In  his  Life  of  Milton  he  observes  :  *  I  cannot  but 
remark  a  kind  of  respect,  perhaps  unconsciously,  paid 
to  this  great  man  by  his  biographers  :  every  house  in 
which  he  resided  is  historically  mentioned,  as  if  it 
were  an  injury  to  neglect  naming  any  place  that  he 
honoured  by  his  presence.'  I  had,  before  I  read  this 
observation,  been  desirous  of  showing  that  respect  to 
Johnson  by  various  inquiries.  Finding  him  this  even- 
ing in  a  very  good  humour,  I  prevailed  on  him  to  give 
me  an  exact  list  of  his  places  of  residence,  since  he 
entered  the  metropolis  as  an  author,  which  I  subjoin 
in  a  note.^ 

I  mentioned  to  him  a  dispute  between  a  friend  of 
mine  and  his  lady,   concerning  conjugal  infidelity. 


1  I.  Exeter  Street,  oflf  Catherine  Street,  Strand. 

2.  Greenwich. 

3.  Woodstock  Street,  near  Hanover  Square. 

4.  Castle  Street,  Cavendish  Square,  No.  6. 

5.  Strand. 

6.  Boswell  Court. 

7.  Strand,  again. 

8.  Bow  Street. 

9.  Holburn. 

10.  Fetter  Lane. 

11.  Holborn,  again. 

12.  Gough  Square. 

13.  Staple  Inn. 

14.  Gray's  Inn. 

15.  Inner  Temple  Lane,  Na  I. 

16.  Johnson's  Court,  No.  7. 

17.  Bolt  Court,  No.  8. 


106  LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON        [1779 

which  my  friend  had  maintained  was  by  no  means  so 
bad  in  the  husband  as  in  the  wife.  Johnson  :  '  Your 
friend  was  in  the  right,  sir.  Between  a  man  and  his 
Maker  it  is  a  different  question  :  but  between  a  man 
and  his  wife,  a  husband's  infidelity  is  nothing.  They 
are  connected  by  children,  by  fortune,  by  serious  con- 
siderations of  community.  Wise  married  women  don't 
trouble  themselves  about  infidelity  in  their  husbands.' 
BoswELL :  ^  To  be  sure  there  is  a  great  difference 
between  the  offence  of  infidelity  in  a  man  and  that 
of  his  wife. '  Johnson  :  '  The  difference  is  boundless. 
The  man  imposes  no  bastards  upon  his  wife.' 

Here  it  may  be  questioned  whether  Johnson  was 
entirely  in  the  right.  I  suppose  it  will  not  be  contro- 
verted, that  the  difference  in  the  degree  of  criminality 
is  very  great  on  account  of  consequences  :  but  still  it 
may  be  maintained  that  independent  of  moral  obliga- 
tion, infidelity  is  by  no  means  a  light  offence  in  a 
husband ;  because  it  must  hurt  a  delicate  attachment 
in  which  a  mutual  constancy  is  implied,  with  such 
refined  sentiments  as  Massinger  has  exhibited  in  his 
play  of  The  Picture.  Johnson  probably  at  another 
time  would  have  admitted  this  opinion.  And  let  it  be 
kept  in  remembrance  that  he  was  very  careful  not  to 
give  any  encouragement  to  irregular  conduct.  A 
gentleman  not  adverting  to  the  distinction  made  by 
him  on  this  subject,  supposed  a  case  of  singular  per- 
verseness  in  a  wife,  and  heedlessly  said,  'That  then 
he  thought  a  husband  might  do  as  he  pleased  with  a 
safe  conscience.'  Johnson:  'Nay,  sir,  this  is  wild 
indeed  (smiling)  ;  you  must  consider  that  fornication 
is  a  crime  in  a  single  man ;  and  you  cannot  have  more 
liberty  by  being  married.' 


/ET.71]     LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON         107 

He  this  evening  expressed  himself  strongly  against 
the  Roman  Catholics,  ohserving,  'In  everything  in 
which  they  differ  from  us,  they  are  wrong.'  He  was 
even  against  the  invocation  of  saints ;  in  short,  he  was 
in  the  humour  of  opposition. 

Having  regretted  to  him  that  I  had  learned  little 
Greek,  as  ^is  too  generally  the  case  in  Scotland ;  that 
I  had  for  a  long  time  hardly  applied  at  all  to  the 
study  of  that  nohle  language,  and  that  I  was  desirous 
of  being  told  by  him  what  method  to  follow ;  he 
recommended  to  me  as  easy  helps,  Sylvanus's  First 
Book  of  the  Iliad,  Dawson's  Lexicon  to  the  Greek  New 
Testament,  and  Hesiod,  with  Pasori's  Lexicon  at  the  end 
of  it. 

On  Tuesday,  October  12,  I  dined  with  him  at 
Mr.  Ramsay's,  with  Lord  Newhaven,  and  some  other 
company,  none  of  whom  I  recollect,  but  a  beautiful 
Miss  Graham,^  a  relation  of  his  Lordship's,  who  asked 
Dr.  Johnson  to  hob  or  nob  with  her.  He  was  iSattered 
by  such  pleasing  attention,  and  politely  told  her  he 
never  drank  wine  ;  but  if  she  would  drink  a  glass  of 
water,  he  was  much  at  her  service.  She  accepted. 
'  Oho,  sir  (said  Lord  Newton),  you  are  caught.'  John- 
son :  '  Nay,  I  do  not  see  how  I  am  caught ;  but  if  I  am 
caught,  I  don't  want  to  get  free  again.  If  I  am  caught 
I  hope  to  be  kept.'  Then  when  the  two  glasses  of 
water  were  brought,  smiling  placidly  to  the  young 
lady,  he  said,  '  Madam,  let  us  reciprocate.' 

Lord  Newhaven  and  Johnson  carried  on  an  argu- 
ment for  some  time  concerning  the  Middlesex  election. 
Johnson   said,    '  Parliament    may    be    considered    as 


1  Now  the  lady  of  Sir  Henry  Dashwood,  Bart. 


108  LIFE    OF    DIL    JOHNSON        [1779 

bound  by  law^  as  a  man  is  bound  where  there  is  no- 
body to  tie  the  knot.  As  it  is  clear  that  the  House  of 
Commons  may  expel,  and  expel  again  and  again,  why 
not  allow  of  the  power  to  incapacitate  for  that  Parlia- 
ment, rather  than  have  a  perpetual  contest  kept  up 
between  Parliament  and  the  people  ? '  Lord  Newhaven 
took  the  opposite  side  ;  but  respectfully  said, '  I  speak 
with  great  deference  to  you.  Dr.  Johnson  ;  I  speak  to 
be  instructed. '  This  had  its  full  effect  on  my  friend. 
He  bowed  his  head  almost  as  low  as  the  table  to  a  com- 
plimenting nobleman,  and  called  out,  '  My  Lord,  my 
Lord,  I  do  not  desire  all  this  ceremony ;  let  us  tell  our 
minds  to  one  another  quietly.'  After  the  debate  was 
over,  he  said, '  I  have  got  lights  on  the  subject  to-day, 
which  I  had  not  before.'  This  was  a  great  deal  from 
him,  especially  as  he  had  written  a  pamphlet  upon  it. 

He  observed,  '  The  House  of  Commons  was  origin- 
^y  not  a  privilege  of  the  people,  but  a  check,  for  the 
Crown,  on  the  House  of  Lords.  I  remember  Henry 
the  Eighth  wanted  them  to  do  something ;  they  hesi- 
tated in  the  morning,  but  did  it  in  the  afternoon.  He 
told  them,  "  It  is  well  you  did  ;  or  half  your  heads 
should  have  been  upon  Temple  Bar."  But  the  House 
of  Commons  is  now  no  longer  under  the  power  of  the 
Crown,  and  therefore  must  be  bribed. '  He  added,  '  I 
shall  have  no  delight  in  talking  of  public  affairs.' 

Of  his  fellow-collegian,  the  celebrated  Mr.  George 
Whitefield,  he  said,  *  Whitefield  never  drew  as  much 
attention  as  a  mountebank  does ;  he  did  not  draw 
attention  by  doing  better  than  others,  but  by  doing 
what  was  strange.  Were  Astley  to  preach  a  sermon 
standing  upon  his  head  on  a  horse's  back,  he  would 
collect  a  multitude  to  hear  him  ;   but  no  wise  man 


jET.yi]    LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON  109 

would  say  he  had  made  a  better  sermon  for  that.  I 
never  treated  Whitefield's  ministry  with  "fcontempt ; 
I  believe  he  did  good.  He  had  devoted  himself  to  the 
lower  classes  of  mankind,  and  among  them  he  was  of 
use.  But  when  familiarity  and  noise  claim  the  praise 
due  to  knowledge,  art,  and  elegance,  we  must  beat 
down  such  pretensions.' 

What  I  have  preserved  of  his  conversation  during- 
the  remainder  of  my  stay  in  London  at  this  time,  is 
only  what  follows  :  I  told  him  that  when  I  objected  to 
keeping  company  with  a  notorious  infidel,  a  celebrated 
friend  of  ours  said  to  me,  '  I  do  not  think  that  men 
who  live  laxly  in  the  world,  as  you  and  I  do,  can  with 
propriety  assume  such  an  authority  :  Dr.  Johnson 
may,  who  is  uniformly  exemplary  in  his  conduct.  But 
it  is  not  very  consistent  to  shun  an  infidel  to-day,  and 
get  drunk  to-morrow.'  Johnson:  'Nay,  sir,  this  ia 
gad  reasoning.  Because  a  man  cannot  be  right  in  all 
things,  is  he  to  be  right  in  nothing  ?  Because  a  man 
sometimes  gets  drunk,  is  he  therefore  to  steal  ?  This 
doctrine  would  very  soon  bring  a  man  to  the  gallows. ' 

After  all,  however,  it  is  a  difficult  question  how  far 
sincere  Christians  should  associate  with  the  avowed 
enemies  of  religion  ;  for  in  the  first  place,  almost 
every  man's  mind  may  be  more  or  less  '  corrupted  by 
evil  communications ' ;  secondly,  the  world  may  very 
naturally  suppose  that  they  are  not  really  in  earnest 
in  religion,  who  can  easily  bear  its  opponents ;  and 
thirdly,  if  the  profane  find  themselves  quite  well 
received  by  the  pious,  one  of  the  checks  upon  an  open 
declaration  of  their  infidelity,  and  one  of  the  probable 
chances  of  obliging  them  seriously  to  reflect,  which 
their  being  shunned  would  do,  is  removed. 


110  LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON        [1779 

He,  I  know  not  why,  showed  upon  all  occasions  an 
aversion  to  go  to  Ireland,  where  I  proposed  to  him 
that  we  should  make  a  tour.  Johnson  :  '  It  is  ithe 
last  place  where  I  should  wish  to  travel.'     Boswell  : 

*  Should  you  not  like  to  see  Dublin,  sir } '  John- 
son :  '  No,  sir ;  Dublin  is  only  a  worse  capital.' 
BoswEUi :  *  Is  not  the  Giant's  Causeway  worth  seeing?' 
Johnson  :  *  Worth  seeing  ?  yes ;  but  not  worth  going 
to  see.' 

Yet  he  had  a  kindness  for  the  Irish  nation,  and  thus 
generously  expressed  himself  to  a  gentleman  from  that 
country  on  the  subject  of  an  union  which  artful  politi- 
cians have  often  had  in  view — '  Do  not  make  an  union 
with  us,  sir,  we  should  unite  with  you  only  to  rob  you. 
We  should  have  robbed  the  Scotch,  if  they  had  had 
anything  of  which  we  could  have  robbed  them.' 

Of  an  acquaintance  of  ours,  whose  manners  and 
everything  about  him,  though  expensive,  were  coarse, 
he  said,  'Sir,  you  see  in  him  vulgar  prosperity.' 

A  foreign  minister  of  no  very  high  talents,  who  had 
been  in  his  company  for  a  considerable  time  quite  over- 
looked, happened  luckily  to  mention  that  he  had  read 
some  of  his  Rambler  in  Italian,  and  admired  it  much. 
This  pleased  him  greatly;  he  observed  that  the  title  had 
been  translated,  II  Genio  errante,  though  I  have  been 
told  it  was  rendered  more  ludicrously,  II  Vagabondo  ; 
and  finding  that  this  minister  gave  such  a  proof  of  his 
taste,  he  was  all  attention  to  him,  and  on  the  first 
remark  which  he  made,  however  simple,  exclaimed, 

*  The  Ambassador  says  well ; — His  Excellency  observes 

'    And  then  he  expanded  and  enriched  the  little 

that  had  been  said  in  so  strong  a  manner  that  it 
appeared  something  of  consequence.  This  was  exceed- 


;et.  7i]     LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  111 

ingly  entertaining  to  the  company  who  were  present^ 
and  many  a  time  afterwards  it  furnished  a  pleasant 
topic  of  merriment :  '  The  Ambassador  says  well,'  be- 
came a  laughable  term  of  applause,  when  no  mighty 
matter  had  been  expressed. 

I  left  London  on  Monday^  October  18,  and  accom- 
panied Colonel  Stuart  to  Chester,  where  his  regiment 
was  to  lie  for  some  time. 

HB.  BOSWELL   TO  DR.  JOHNSON 

'  Chester,  October  22,  1779. 
'My  deab  Sm, — It  was  not  till  one  o'clock  on  Monday 
morning  that  Colonel  Stuart  and  I  left  London ;  for  we  chose 
to  bid  a  cordial  adieu  to  Lord  Mountstuart,  who  was  to  set 
out  on  that  day  on  his  embassy  to  Turin.  We  drove  on 
excellently,  and  reached  Lichfield  in  good  time  enough  that 
night.  The  Colonel  had  heard  so  preferable  a  character  of 
the  George  that  he  would  not  put  up  at  the  Three  Crowns,  so 
that  I  did  not  see  our  host  WilMns.  We  foimd  at  the  George 
as  good  accommodations  as  we  could  wish  to  have,  and  I 
fidly  enjoyed  the  comfortable  thought  that  I  was  in  Lichfield 
again.  Next  morning  it  rained  very  hard ;  and  as  I  had 
much  to  do  in  a  httle  time  I  ordered  a  post-chaise,  and 
between  eight  and  nine  sallied  forth  to  make  a  round  of  visits. 
I  first  went  to  Mr.  Green,  hoping  to  have  had  him  to  accom- 
pany me  to  all  my  other  friends,  but  he  was  engaged  to  attend 
the  Bishop  of  Sodor  and  Man,  who  was  then  lying  at  Lichfield 
very  ill  of  the  gout.  Having  taken  a  hasty  glance  at  the 
additions  to  Green's  museum,  from  which  it  was  not  so  easy 
to  break  away,  I  next  went  to  the  Friary,  where  I  at  first 
occasioned  some  tumult  in  the  ladies,  who  were  not  prepared 
to  receive  company  so  early ;  but  my  name,  which  has  by 
wonderful  felicity  come  to  be  closely  associated  with  yours, 
soon  made  all  easy;  and  Mrs.  Cobb  and  Miss  Adey  re- 
assumed  their  seats  at  the  breakfast  table,  which  they  had 
quitted  with  some  precipitation.  They  received  me  with  the 
kindness  of  an  old  acquaintance ;  and  after  we  had  joined  in 


112  LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON        [1779 

a  cordial  chorus  to  your  praise,  Mrs.  Cobb  gave  me  the  high 
satisfaction  of  hearing  that  you  said,  "Boswell  is  a  man 
who  I  believe  never  left  a  house  without  leaving  a  wish  for 
his  return."  And  she  afterwards  added,  that  she  bid  you 
tell  me  that  if  ever  I  came  to  Lichfield,  she  hoped  I  would 
take  a  bed  at  the  Friary.  From  thence  I  drove  to  Peter 
Garrick's,^  where  I  also  found  a  very  flattering  welcome. 
He  appeared  to  me  to  enjoy  his  usual  cheerfulness ;  and  he 
very  kindly  asked  me  to  come  when  I  could  and  pass  a  week 
with  him.  From  Mr.  Garrick's  I  went  to  the  Palace  to  wait 
on  Mr.  Seward.  I  was  first  entertained  by  his  lady  and 
daughter,  he  himself  being  in  bed  with  a  cold,  according  to 
his  valetudinary  custom.  But  he  desired  to  see  me ;  and  I 
found  him  dressed  in  his  black  gown,  with  a  white  flannel 
night-gown  above  it ;  so  that  he  looked  like  a  Dominican 
friar.  He  was  good-humoured  and  polite;  and  imder  his 
roof  too  my  reception  was  very  pleasing.  I  then  proceeded 
to  Stowhill,  and  first  paid  my  respects  to  Mrs.  Gastrell,  whose 
conversation  I  was  not  willing  to  quit.  But  my  sand-glasa 
was  now  beginning  to  run  low,  as  I  could  not  trespass  too 
long  on  the  Colonel's  kindness,  who  obligingly  waited  for  me ; 
so  I  hastened  to  Mrs.  Aston's,^  whom  I  found  much  better 
than  I  feared  I  should ;  and  there  I  met  a  brother-in-law  of 
these  ladies,  who  talked  much  of  you,  and  very  well  too,  as 
it  appeared  to  me.  It  then  only  remained  to  visit  Mrs.  Lucy 
Porter,  which  I  did,  I  really  believe,  with  sincere  satisfaction 
on  both  sides.  I  am  sure  I  was  glad  to  see  her  again ;  and, 
as  I  take  her  to  be  very  honest,  I  trust  she  was  glad  to  see 
me  again;  for  she  expressed  herself  so,  that  I  could  not 
doubt  of  her  being  in  earnest.  What  a  great  keystone  of 
kindness,  my  dear  sir,  were  you  that  morning !  for  we  were 
all  held  together  by  our  common  attachment  to  you.  I 
cannot  say  that  I  ever  passed  two  hours  with  more  self- 
complacency  than  I  did  those  two  at  Lichfield.  Let  me  not 
entertain  any  suspicion  that  this  is  idle  vanity.    Will  not  you 


1  [This  gentleman  survived  his  brother  David  many  years ;  »nd  died 
at  Lichfield,  Dec.  12,  1795,  aetat.  86. — A.  C] 

2  A  maiden  sister  of  Johnson's  favourite  Molly  Aston,  who  married 
Captain  Brodie  of  the  Navy. — M.] 


JET.yi]    LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON         113 

confirm  me  in  my  persuasion,  that  he  who  finds  himself  so 
regarded  has  just  reason  to  be  happy  ? 

'  We  got  to  Chester  about  midnight  on  Tuesday ;  and  here 
again  I  am  in  a  state  of  much  enjoyment.  Colonel  Stuart 
and  his  officers  treat  me  with  all  the  civility  I  could  wish ; 
and  I  play  my  part  admirably.  Lcetus  aliis,  sapiens  sibi,  the 
classical  sentence  which  you,  I  imagine,  invented  the  other 
day,  is  exemplified  in  my  present  existence.  The  Bishop,  to 
whom  I  had  the  honour  to  be  known  several  years  ago,  shows 
me  much  attention;  and  I  am  edified  by  his  conversation. 
I  must  not  omit  to  tell  you  that  his  Lordship  admires,  very 
highly,  your  Prefaces  to  the  Poets.  I  am  daily  obtaining  an 
extension  of  agreeable  acquaintance,  so  that  I  am  kept  in 
animated  variety ;  and  the  study  of  the  place  itself,  by  the 
assistance  of  books,  and  of  the  Bishop,  is  sufficient  occupation. 
Chester  pleases  my  fancy  more  than  any  town  I  ever  saw. 
But  I  will  not  enter  upon  it  at  all  in  this  letter. 

'  How  long  I  shall  stay  here  I  cannot  yet  say.  I  told  a  very 
pleasing  young  lady.i  niece  to  one  of  the  Prebendaries,  at 
whose  house  I  saw  her,  "I  have  come  to  Chester,  madam,  I 
cannot  tell  how;  and  far  less  can  I  tell  how  I  am  to  get 
away  from  it.  Do  not  think  me  too  juvenile."  I  beg  it  of 
you,  my  dear  sir,  to  favour  me  with  a  letter  while  I  am  here, 
and  add  to  the  happiness  of  a  happy  friend,  who  is  ever, 
with  affectionate  veneration,  most  sincerely  yours, 

*  James  Boswell. 

'  If  yon  do  not  write  directly  so  as  to  catch  me  here,  I  shall 
be  disappointed.  Two  lines  from  you  will  keep  my  lamp 
burning  bright.' 

TO   JAMES   BOSWELL,  ESQ. 

'Dbak  Sir, — Why  should  you  importune  me  so  earnestly 
to  write?  Of  what  importance  can  it  be  to  hear  of  distant 
friends  to  a  man  who  finds  himself  welcome  wherever  he  goes, 
and  makes  new  friends  faster  than  he  can  want  them  ?  If  to 
the  delight  of  such  universal  kindness  of  reception  anything 


1  Miss  Letitia  Bamston. 
VOL.   V. 


114         LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1779 

can  be  added  by  knowing  that  you  retain  my  good-will,  yoii 
may  indulge  yourself  in  the  full  enjoyment  of  that  small 
addition. 

'  I  am  glad  that  you  made  the  round  of  Lichfield  with  so 
much  success :  the  of tener  you  are  seen  the  more  you  will  be 
liked.  It  was  pleasing  to  me  to  read  that  Mrs.  Aston  was  so 
well,  and  that  Lucy  Porter  was  so  glad  to  see  you. 

'In  the  place  where  you  now  are  there  is  much  to  be 
observed;  and  you  will  easily  procure  yourself  skilful 
directors.  But  what  will  you  do  to  keep  away  the  hlack  dog 
that  worries  you  at  home?  If  you  would,  in  compliance 
with  your  father's  advice,  inquire  into  the  old  tenures  and 
old  characters  of  Scotland,  you  would  certainly  open  to  your- 
self many  striking  scenes  of  the  manners  of  the  middle  ages. 
The  feudal  system,  in  a  country  half  barbarous,  is  naturally 
productive  of  great  anomalies  in  civil  life.  The  knowledge 
of  past  times  is  naturally  growing  less  in  all  cases  not  of 
public  record ;  and  the  past  time  of  Scotland  is  so  unlike  the 
present  that  it  is  already  difficult  for  a  Scotchman  to  image 
the  economy  ef  his  grandfather.  Do  not  be  tardy  nor 
negligent ;  but  gather  up  eagerly  what  can  yet  be  found.  ^ 

'We  have,  I  think,  once  talked  of  another  project,  a 
History  of  the  late  insurrection  in  Scotland,  with  all  its 
incidents.  Many  falsehoods  are  passing  into  uncontradicted 
history.  Voltaire,  who  loved  a  striking  story,  has  told  what 
he  could  not  find  to  be  true. 

'  You  may  make  collections  for  either  of  these  projects,  or 
for  both,  as  opportunities  occur,  and  digest  your  materials  at 
leisure.  The  great  direction  which  Burton  has  left  to  men 
disordered  like  you,  is  this,  Be  not  solitary  j  he  not  idle : 
which  I  would  thus  modify ; — If  you  are  idle,  be  not  solitary ; 
if  you  are  solitary,  be  not  idle.  There  is  a  letter  for  you, 
from  your  humble  servant,  Sam,  Johnsow. 

'  London,  October  27,  1779.' 


1  I  have  a  valuable  collection  made  by  my  father,  which,  with  some 
additions  and  illustrations  of  my  own,  I  intend  to  publish.  I  have 
some  hereditary  claim  to  be  an  Antiquary ;  not  only  from  my  father, 
but  as  being  descended,  by  the  mother's  side,  from  the  able  and  learned 
Sir  John  Skene,  whose  merit  bids  defiance  to  all  the  attempts  which 
have  been  made  to  lessen  his  fame. 


JET.  71]    LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON  115 

TO   DB.  SAMUEL  JOHNSON 

'  Carlisle,  Nov.  7,  1779. 

'  My  deak  Sib, — That  I  should  importune  you  to  write  to 
me  at  Chester  is  not  wonderful,  when  you  consider  what  an 
avidity  I  have  for  delight ;  and  that  the  amor  of  pleasure,  like 
the  amior  nv/mmi,  increases  in  proportion  with  the  quantity 
which  we  possess  of  it.  Your  letter,  so  full  of  polite  kindness 
and  masterly  counsel,  came  like  a  large  treasure  upon  me, 
while  already  glittering  with  riches.  I  was  quite  enchanted 
at  Chester,  so  that  I  could  with  difficulty  quit  it.  But  the 
enchantment  was  the  reverse  of  that  of  Circe ;  for  so  far  was 
there  from  being  anything  sensual  in  it  that  I  was  aU  mind. 
I  do  not  mean  all  reason  only :  for  my  fancy  was  kept  finely 
in  play.  And  why  not  ? — If  you  please,  I  will  send  you  a 
copy,  or  an  abridgment  of  my  Chester  journal,  which  is  truly 
a  log-book  of  felicity. 

'The  Bishop  treated  me  with  a  kindness  which  was  very 
flattering.  I  told  him  that  you  regretted  you  had  seen  so 
little  of  Chester.  His  Lordship  bade  me  tell  you  that  he 
should  be  glad  to  show  you  more  of  it.  I  am  proud  to  find 
the  friendship  with  which  you  honour  me  is  known  in  so 
many  places. 

*  I  arrived  here  late  last  night.  Our  friend,  the  Dean,  has 
been  gone  from  hence  some  months ;  but  I  am  told  at  my  inn 
that  he  is  very  populous  (popular).  However,  I  found  Mr. 
Law,  the  Archdeacon,  son  to  the  Bishop,  and  with  him  I  have 
breakfasted  and  dined  very  agreeably.  I  got  acquainted  with 
him  at  the  assizes  here  about  a  year  and  a  half  ago ;  he  is  a 
man  of  great  variety  of  knowledge,  imcommon  genius,  and,  I 
believe,  sincere  religion.  I  received  the  holy  sacrament  in 
the  Cathedral  in  the  morning,  this  being  the  first  Simday  in 
the  month ;  and  was  at  prayers  there  in  the  morning.  It  is 
divinely  cheering  to  me  to  think  that  there  is  a  cathedral  so 
near  Auchinleck;  and  I  now  leave  Old  England  in  such  a 
state  of  mind  as  I  am  thankful  to  God  for  granting  me. 

'The  black  dog  that  worries  me  at  home  I  cannot  but 
dread ;  yet  as  I  have  been  for  some  time  past  in  a  military 
train,  I  trust  I  shall  repulse  him.  To  hear  from  you  will 
animate  me  like  the  sovmd  of  a  trumpet,  I  therefore  hope, 


116         LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1779 

that  soon  after  my  retnrn  to  the  northern  field  I  shall  receive 
a  few  lines  from  you. 

'Colonel  Stuart  did  me  the  honour  to  escort  me  in  his 
carriage  to  show  me  Liverpool,  and  from  thence  back  again 
to  Warrington,  where  we  parted.^  In  justice  to  my  valuable 
wife,  I  must  inform  you  she  wrote  to  me,  that  as  I  was  so 
happy,  she  would  not  be  so  selfish  as  to  wish  me  to  return 
Booner  than  business  absolutely  required  my  presence.  She 
made  my  clerk  write  to  me  a  post  or  two  after  to  the  same 
purpose,  by  commission  from  her ;  and  this  day  a  kind  letter 
from  her  met  me  at  the  Post  Office  here,  acquainting  me  that 
she  and  the  little  ones  were  well,  and  expressing  all  their 
wishes  for  my  return  home. — I  am,  more  and  more,  my  dear 
sir,  your  affectionate  and  obliged  humble  servant, 

'James  Bosweix.' 

TO   JAMES   BOSWELL,  ESQ. 

'  Dbab  Sir, — Your  last  letter  was  not  only  kind  but  fond. 
But  I  wish  you  to  get  rid  of  all  intellectual  excesses,  and 
neither  to  exalt  your  pleasures,  nor  aggravate  your  vexations 
beyond  their  real  and  natural  state.  Why  should  you  not 
be  as  happy  at  Edinburgh  as  at  Chester  ?  In  culpa  est  animus 
qui  se  non  effugit  usquam.  Please  yourself  with  your  wife 
and  children  and  studies  and  practice. 

I  have  sent  a  petition  2  from  Lucy  Porter,  with  which  I 
leave  it  to  your  discretion  whether  it  is  proper  to  comply. 
Return  me  her  letter,  which  I  have  sent,  that  you  may  know 
the  whole  case,  and  not  be  seduced  to  anything  that  you 
may  afterwards  repent.  Miss  Doxy  perhaps  you  know  to  be 
Mr.  Garrick's  niece. 

'  K  Dean  Percy  can  be  popular  at  Carlisle  he  may  be  very 
happy.  He  has  in  his  disposal  two  livings,  each  equal,  or 
almost  equal  in  value  to  the  deanery ;  he  may  take  one  him- 
self, and  give  the  other  to  his  son. 


1  His  regiment  was  afterwards  ordered  to  Jatnalca,_  where  he 
accompanied  it,  and  almost  lost  his  life  by  the  climate.  This  impartial 
order  I  should  think  a  sufficient  refutation  of  the  idle  rumour  that 
'  there  was  still  something  behind  the  throne  greater  than  the  throne 
itself.' 

2  Requesting  me  to  inquire  concerning  the  family  of  a  gentleman 
who  was  then  paying  his  addresses  to  Mi; 3  Doxy. 


JET.71]     LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  117 

'How  near  is  the  Cathedral  to  Auchinleck,  that  you  arc 
so  much  delighted  with  it?  it  is,  I  suppose,  at  least  an 
hundred  and  fifty  miles  off.  However,  if  you  are  pleased, 
it  is  so  far  well. 

'  Let  me  know  what  reception  you  have  from  your  father, 
and  the  state  of  his  health.  Please  him  as  much  as  you  can, 
and  add  no  pain  to  his  last  years. 

'Of  our  friends  here  I  can  recollect  nothing  to  tell  you. 
I  have  neither  seen  nor  heard  of  Langton.  Beauclerk  is  just 
returned  from  Brighthelmstone,  I  am  told,  much  better, 
air.  Thrale  and  his  family  are  still  there ;  and  his  health  is 
said  to  be  visibly  improved ;  he  has  not  bathed  but  himted. 

'  At  Bolt  Court  there  is  much  malignity,  but  of  late  little 
open  hostility.  1  I  have  had  a  cold,  but  it  is  gone.  Make  my 
compliments  to  Mrs.  Boswell,  etc. — I  am,  sir,  your  himible 
servant,  Sam.  Johnson. 

'London,  Nov.  13,  1779.' 

On  November  22,  and  December  21,  I  wrote  to  him 
from  Edinburgh,  giving  a  very  favourable  report  of 
the  family  of  Miss  Doxy's  lover ; — that  after  a  good 
deal  of  inquiry  I  had  discovered  the  sister  of  Mr. 
Francis  Stewart,  one  of  his  amanuenses  when  writing 
his  Dictionary ; — that  I  had,  as  desired  by  him,  paid 
her  a  guinea  for  an  old  pocket-book  of  her  brother's 
which  he  had  retained  ;  and  that  the  good  woman, 
who  was  in  very  moderate  circumstances,  but  con- 
tented and  placid,  wondered  at  his  scrupulous  and 
liberal  honesty,  and  received  the  guinea  as  if  sent  her 
by  Providence. — ^That  I  had  repeatedly  begged  of 
him  to  keep  his  promise  to  send  me  his  letter  to  Lord 
Chesterfield,  and  that  this  memento,  like  Delenda  est 
Carthago,  must  be  in  every  letter  that  I  should  write 
to  him  till  I  had  obtained  my  object. 

In  1780  the  world  was  kept  in  impatience  for  the 

1  See  p.  67. 


118  LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON        [1780 

completion  of  his  Lives  of  the  Poets,  upon  which  he 
was  employed  so  far  as  his  indolence  allowed  him  to 
labour. 

I  wrote  to  him  on  January  1,  and  March  13,  send- 
ing him  my  notes  of  Lord  Marchmont's  information 
concerning  Pope  ; — complaining  that  I  had  not  heard 
from  him  for  almost  four  months,  though  he  was  two 
letters  in  my  debt ; — that  I  had  suffered  again  from 
melancholy; — hoping  that  he  had  been  in  so  much 
better  company  (the  Poets),  that  he  had  not  time  to 
think  of  his  distant  friends  ;  for  if  that  were  the  case, 
I  should  have  some  recompense  for  my  uneasiness ; — 
that  the  state  of  my  affairs  did  not  admit  of  my  coming 
to  London  this  year ;  and  begging  he  would  return  me 
Goldsmith's  two  poems,  with  his  lines  marked. 

His  friend  Dr.  Lawrence  having  now  suffered  the 
greatest  affliction  to  which  a  man  is  liable,  and  which 
Johnson  himself  had  felt  in  the  most  severe  manner  ; 
Johnson  wrote  to  him  in  an  admirable  strain  of 
sympathy  and  pious  consolation  : — 

TO   DR.   LAWRENCE 

'Deab  Sib, — At  a  time  when  all  your  friends  ought  to  show 
their  kindness,  and  with  a  character  which  ought  to  make  all 
that  know  you  your  friends,  you  may  wonder  that  you  have 
yet  heard  nothing  from  me. 

'  I  have  been  hindered  by  a  vexations  and  incessant  cough, 
for  which  within  these  ten  days  I  have  been  bled  once,  fasted 
four  or  five  times,  taken  physio  five  times,  and  opiates,  I 
think,  six.    This  day  it  seems  to  remit. 

'  The  loss,  dear  sir,  which  you  have  lately  sufifered,  I  felt 
many  years  ago,  and  know  therefore  how  much  has  been 
taken  from  you,  and  how  little  help  can  be  had  from  con- 
solation. He  that  outlives  a  wife  whom  he  has  long  loved, 
sees  himself  disjoined  from  the  only  mind  that  has  the  same 


;et.  7i]    LIFE    OF    BR.    JOHNSON  119 

hopes  and  fears  and  interest ;  from  the  only  companion  with 
•whom  he  has  shared  much  good  or  evU ;  and  with  whom  he 
could  set  his  mind  at  liberty  to  retrace  the  past  or  anticipate 
the  future.  The  continuity  of  being  is  lacerated :  the  settled 
course  of  sentiment  and  action  is  stopped;  and  life  stands 
suspended  and  motionless,  till  it  is  driven  by  external  causes 
into  a  new  channeL    But  the  time  of  suspense  is  dreadfuL 

'  Our  first  recourse  in  this  distressed  solitude  is,  perhaps  for 
want  of  habitual  piety,  to  a  gloomy  acquiescence  in  necessity. 
Of  two  mortal  beings,  one  must  lose  the  other;  but  surely 
there  is  a  higher  and  better  comfort  to  be  drawn  from  the 
consideration  of  that  Providence  which  watches  over  all,  and 
a  belief  that  the  living  and  the  dead  are  equally  in  the  hands 
of  God,  who  will  reunite  those  whom  he  has  separated;  or 
who  sees  that  it  is  best  not  to  reunite. — I  am,  dear  sir,  your 
most  affectionate,  and  most  himible  servant, 

'  Sah.  Johnsox. 

*  January  20,  1780.' 

TO  JAMBS  BOSWELLj  ESQ. 

'Dear  Sib, — Well,  I  had  resolved  to  send  you  the  Chester- 
field letter;  but  I  will  write  once  again  without  it.  Never 
impose  tasks  upon  mortals.  To  require  two  things  is  the  way 
to  have  them  both  undone. 

'  For  the  difficiolties  which  you  mention  in  your  affairs  I  am 
sorry ;  but  diflSculty  is  now  very  general :  it  is  not  therefore 
less  grievous,  for  there  is  less  hope  of  help.  I  pretend  not  to 
give  you  advice,  not  knowing  the  state  of  your  affairs ;  and 
general  counsels  about  prudence  and  frugality  would  do  you 
little  good.  You  are,  however,  in  the  right  not  to  increase 
your  own  perplexity  by  a  journey  hither ;  and  I  hope  that  by 
staying  at  home  you  will  please  your  father. 

'  Poor  dear  Beauclerk  ^ — nee,  ut  soles,  dahis  joca.  His  wit 
and  his  folly,  his  acuteness  and  maliciousness,  his  merriment 
and  reasoning,  are  now  over.  Such  another  wUl  not  often  be 
found  among  mankind.  He  directed  himself  to  be  buried  by 
the  side  of  his  mother,  an  instance  of  tenderness  which  I 
hardly  expected.    He  has  left  his  children  to  the  care  of  Lady 


1  [The  Hon.  Topbam  Beauclerk  died  March  ii,  1780,  aged  40.— M. 


120  LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1780 

Di,  and  if  she  dies,  of  Mr.  Langton,  and  of  Mr.  Leicester,  his 
relation,  and  a  man  of  good  character.  His  library  has  been 
offered  to  sale  to  the  Russian  ambassador.  1 

'  Dr.  Percy,  notwithstanding  all  the  noise  of  the  newspapers, 
has  had  no  literary  loss.^  Clothes  and  movables  were  burnt 
to  the  value  of  about  £100 ;  but  his  papers,  and  I  think  his 
books,  were  all  preserved, 

'Poor  Mr.  Thrale  has  been  in  extreme  danger  from  an 
apoplectical  disorder,  and  recovered,  beyond  the  expectation 
of  his  physicians ;  he  is  now  at  Eath  that  his  mind  may  be 
quiet,  and  Mrs.  Thrale  and  Miss  are  with  him. 

'Having  told  you  what  has  happened  to  your  friends,  let 
me  say  something  to  you  of  yourself.  You  are  always  com- 
plaining of  melancholy,  and  I  conclude  from  those  complaints 
that  you  are  fond  of  it.  No  man  talks  of  that  which  he  is 
desirous  to  conceal,  and  every  man  desires  to  conceal  that  of 
which  he  is  ashamed.  Do  not  pretend  to  deny  it ;  mcmifestwm 
habemus  furem ;  make  it  an  invariable  and  obligatory  law  to 
yourself  never  to  mention  your  own  mental  diseases ;  if  you 
are  never  to  speak  of  them  you  will  think  on  them  but  little, 
and  if  you  think  little  of  them  they  will  molest  you  rarely. 
When  you  talk  of  them  it  is  plain  that  you  want  either  praise 
or  pity;  for  praise  there  is  no  room,  and  pity  will  do  you 
no  good ;  therefore,  from  this  hour  speak  no  more,  think  no 
more,  about  them. 

'Your  transaction  with  Mrs.  Stewart  gave  me  great  satis- 
faction ;  I  am  much  obliged  to  you  for  your  attention.  Do 
not  lose  sight  of  her ;  your  countenance  may  be  of  great  credit, 
and  of  consequence  of  great  advantage  to  her.  The  memory 
of  her  brother  is  yet  fresh  in  my  mind ;  he  was  an  ingenious 
and  worthy  man. 

'  Please  to  make  my  compliments  to  your  lady  and  to  the 
young  ladies.  I  should  like  to  see  them,  pretty  loves. — I  am, 
dear  sir,  yours  affectionately,  Sam.  Johnson. 

'April  8,  17S0.' 


1  [Mr.  Beauclerk's  Library  was  sold  by  public  auction  in  April  and 
May  1781,  for  ;{;50ii.— M.] 

2  By  a  fire  in  Northumberland  House,  where  he  had  an  apartment, 
in  which  I  have  passed  many  an  agreeable  hour. 


/ET.  7i]     LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON  121 

Mrs.  Thrale  being  now  at  Bath  with  her  husband, 
the  correspondence  between  Johnson  and  her  was 
carried  on  briskly.  I  shall  present  my  readers  with 
one  of  her  original  letters  to  him  at  this  time,  which 
will  amuse  them  probably  more  than  those  well-written 
but  studied  epistles  which  she  has  inserted  in  her 
collection,  because  it  exhibits  the  easy  vivacity  of 
their  literary  intercourse.  It  is  also  of  value  as  a  key 
to  Johnson's  answer,  which  she  has  printed  by  itself, 
and  of  which  I  shall  subjoin  extracts. 

MKS.   THRALE   TO   DR.  JOHNSON 

'  I  had  a  very  kind  letter  from  you  yesterday,  dear  sir,  with 
a  most  circumstantial  date.  You  took  trouble  with  my  cir- 
culating letter,  Mr.  Evans  writes  me  word,  and  I  thank  you 
sincerely  for  so  doing :  one  might  do  mischief  else,  not  being 
on  the  spot. 

'  Yesterday's  evening  was  passed  at  Mrs.  Montagu's :  there 
was  Mr.  Melmoth ;  I  do  not  like  him  though,  nor  he  me ;  it 
was  expected  we  should  have  pleased  each  other ;  he  is,  how- 
ever, just  Tory  enough  to  hate  the  Bishop  of  Peterborough^ 
for  Whigg^sm,  and  "Whig  enough  to  abhor  you  for  Toryism. 

'Mrs.  Montagu  flattered  him  finely;  so  he  had  a  good 
afternoon  on 't.  This  evening  we  spend  at  a  concert.  Poor 
Queeney's^  sore  eyes  have  just  released  her:  she  had  a  long 
confinement,  and  could  neither  read  nor  write,  so  my  master' 
treated  her  very  good-naturedly  with  the  visits  of  a  young 
woman  in  this  town,  a  tailor's  daughter,  who  professes  music, 
and  teaches  so  as  to  give  six  lessons  a  day  to  ladies  at  five  and 
threepence  a  lesson.  Miss  Burney  says  she  is  a  great  per- 
former; and  I  respect  the  wench  for  getting  her  hving  so 
prettily ;  she  is  very  modest  and  pretty -mannered,  and  not 
seventeen  years  old. 


1  Dr.  John  Hinchliffe. 

2  A  kind  of  nickname  given  to  Mrs.  Thrale's  eldest  daughter,  whos* 
name  being  Esther  she  might  be  assimilated  to  a  Queen, 

3  Mr.  Thrale. 


122         LIFE   OF   DIL    JOHNSON        [1780 

'  You  live  in  a  fine  whirl  indeed ;  if  I  did  not  write  regularly 
you  would  half  forget  me,  and  that  would  be  very  wrong, 
for  I  fdt  my  regard  for  you  in  my  joucc  last  night  when  the 
criticisms  were  going  on. 

'  This  morning  it  was  all  connoisseurship ;  we  went  to  see 
some  pictures  painted  by  a  gentleman-artist,  Llr.  Taylor,  of 
this  place ;  my  master  makes  one  everywhere,  and  has  got  a 
good  dawdling  companion  to  ride  with  him  now.  .  .  .  He  looks 
well  enough,  but  I  have  no  notion  of  health  for  a  man  whose 
mouth  cannot  be  sewed  up.  Bumey  and  I  and  Queeney  tease 
him  every  meal  he  eats,  and  Mrs.  Montagu  is  quite  serious 
with  him ;  but  what  can  one  do  ?  He  will  eat,  I  think,  and 
if  he  does  eat  I  know  he  wiU  not  live;  it  makes  me  very 
unhappy,  but  I  must  bear  it.  Let  me  always  have  your 
friendship. — I  am,  most  sincerely,  dear  air,  your  faithful 
servant,  H.  L.  T. 

•£(rffe,  Friday,  April  28.' 

DR.  JOHNSON   TO  MRS.  THRALE 

'Dearest  Madam, — IVIr,  Thrale  never  will  live  abstinently 
till  he  can  persuade  himself  to  live  by  rule.^  .  .  .  Encourage, 
as  you  can,  the  musical  girl. 

'  Nothing  is  more  common  than  mutual  dislike  where  mutual 
approbation  is  particularly  expected.  There  is  often  on  both 
sides  a  vigilance  not  over-benevolent ;  and  as  attention  is 
strongly  excited,  so  that  nothing  drops  vmheeded,  any  differ- 
ence in  taste  or  opinion,  and  some  difference  where  there  is 
no  restraint  will  commonly  appear,  immediately  generates 
dislike. 

'  Never  let  criticisms  operate  on  your  face  or  your  mind ; 
it  is  very  rarely  that  an  author  is  hurt  by  his  critics.  The 
blaze  of  reputation  cannot  be  blown  out,  but  it  often  dies 
in  the  socket ;  a  very  few  names  may  be  considered  as  per- 
petual lamps  that  shine  unconsumed.  From  the  author  of 
Fitzosborne's  Letters  I  cannot  think  myself  in  much  danger.* 
I  met  him  only  once  about  thirty  years  ago,  and  in  some  small 
dispute  reduced  him  to  whistle ;  having  not  seen  him  since, 

1  I  have  taken  the  liberty  to  leave  out  a  few  lines, 
a  Melmoth. 


JET.  7i]     LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  123 

that  is  the  last  impression.  Poor  Moore,  the  fabulist,  was  one 
of  the  company. 

'  Mrs.  Montagu's  long  stay,  against  her  own  inclination,  is 
very  convenient.  You  would,  by  your  own  confession,  want 
a  companion ;  and  she  is  par  pluribus ;  conyeraing  with  her 
you  may  find  variety  in  one. 

'London,  May  1,  1780.' 

On  the  2nd  of  May  I  wrote  to  him,  and  requested 
that  we  might  have  another  meeting  somewhere  in 
the  North  of  England  in  the  autumn  of  this  year. 

From  Mr.  Lang^on  I  received  soon  after  this  time 
a  letter,  of  which  I  extract  a  passage,  relative  both  to 
Mr.  Beauclerk  and  Dr.  Johnson  : — 

'  The  melancholy  information  you  have  received  concerning 
Rlr.  Beauclerk's  death  is  true.  Had  his  talents  been  directed 
in  any  sufficient  degree  as  they  ought,  I  have  always  been 
strongly  of  opinion  that  they  were  calculated  to  make  an 
illustrious  figure;  and  that  opinion,  as  it  had  been  in  part 
formed  upon  Dr.  Johnson's  judgment,  receives  more  and 
more  confirmation  by  hearing  what,  since  his  death,  Dr. 
Johnson  has  said  concerning  them;  a  few  evenings  ago  he 
was  at  Mr.  Vesey's,  where  Lord  Althorx)e,  who  was  one  of 
a  numerous  company  there,  addressed  Dr.  Johnson  on  the 
subject  of  Mr.  Beauclerk's  death,  saying,  "Our  Club  has  had 
a  great  loss  since  we  met  last."  He  replied,  "A  loss  that 
perhaps  the  whole  nation  could  not  repair ! "  The  Doctor 
then  went  on  to  speak  of  his  endowments,  and  particularly 
extolled  the  wonderful  ease  with  which  he  uttered  what  was 
highly  excellent.  He  said,  that  "no  man  ever  was  so  free 
when  he  was  going  to  say  a  good  thing,  from  a  look  that  ex- 
pressed that  it  was  coming ;  or,  when  he  had  said  it,  from 
a  look  that  expressed  that  it  had  come."  At  Mr.  Thrale's, 
some  days  before,  when  we  were  talking  on  the  same  subject, 
he  said,  referring  to  the  same  idea  of  his  wonderful  facility, 
"That  Beauclerk's  talents  were  those  which  he  had  felt  him- 
self more  disposed  to  envy  than  those  of  any  whom  he  had 
known." 


124  LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON        [1780 

'On  the  evening  I  have  spoken  of  above,  at  Mr.  Vesey's, 
you  would  have  been  much  gratified,  as  it  exhibited  an 
instance  of  the  high  importance  in  which  Dr.  Johnson's 
character  is  held,  I  think  even  beyond  any  I  ever  before  was 
witness  to.  The  conipany  consisted  chiefly  of  ladies,  among 
whom  were  the  Duchess  Dowager  of  Portland,  the  Duchess  of 
Beaufort,  whom  I  suppose  from  her  rank  I  must  name  before 
her  mother  Mrs.  Boscawen,  and  her  elder  sister  Mrs.  Lewson, 
who  was  likewise  there ;  Lady  LucanJ  Lady  Clermont,  and 
others  of  note  both  for  their  station  and  understandings. 
Among  the  gentlemen  were  Lord  Althorpe,  whom  I  have 
before  named.  Lord  Macartney,  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  Lord 
Lucan,  Mr.  "VVraxal,  whose  book  you  have  probably  seen. 
The  Tour  to  the  Northern  Parts  of  Europe ;  a  very  agreeable 
ingenious  man ;  Dr.  Warren,  Mr.  Pepys,  the  Master  in 
Chancery,  whom  I  believe  you  know,  and  Dr.  Barnard,  the 
Provost  of  Eton.  As  soon  as  Dr.  Johnson  was  come  in,  and 
had  taken  a  chair,  the  company  began  to  collect  round  him 
till  they  became  not  less  than  four,  if  not  five,  deep;  those 
behind  standing  and  listening  over  the  heads  of  those  that 
were  sitting  near  him.  The  conversation  for  some  time  was 
chiefly  between  Dr.  Johnson  and  the  Provost  of  Eton,  while 
the  others  contributed  occasionally  their  remarks.  Without 
attempting  to  detail  the  particulars  of  the  conversation,  which 
perhaps  if  I  did,  I  should  spin  my  account  out  to  a  tedious 
length,  I  thought,  my  dear  sir,  this  general  account  of  the 
respect  with  which  our  valued  friend  was  attended  to  might 
be  acceptable.' 

TO   THE   REV.  DB.  FABMEK 

'May  25,  1780. 
'Sn^ — I  know  your  disposition  to  second  any  literary 
attempt,  and  therefore  venture  upon  the  liberty  of  entreating 
you  to  procure  from  College  or  University  registers  all  the 
dates  or  other  informations  which  they  can  supply  relating 
to  Ambrose  Philips,  Broome,  and  Gray,  who  were  all  of 
Cambridge,  and  of  whose  lives  I  am  to  give  such  accounts  as 
I  can  gather.  Be  pleased  to  forgive  this  trouble  from,  sir, 
your  most  humble  servant,  Sam.  Johnson.* 


MT.71]    LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  125 

WTiile  Johnson  was  thus  engaged  in  preparing  a 
delightful  literary  entertainment  for  the  world  the- 
tranquillity  of  the  metropolis  of  Great  Britain  was 
unexpectedly  disturbed  by  the  most  horrid  series  of 
outrage  that  ever  disgraced  a  civilised  country.  A 
relaxation  of  some  of  the  severe  penal  provisions 
against  our  fellow-subjects  of  the  Catholic  communion 
had  been  granted  b'y  the  legislature,  with  an  opposi- 
tion so  inconsiderable  that  the  genuine  mildness  of 
Christianity  united  with  liberal  policy  seemed  to 
have  become  general  in  this  island.  But  a  dark  and 
malignant  spirit  of  persecution  soon  showed  itself  in 
an  unworthy  petition  for  the  repeal  of  the  wise  and 
humane  statute.  That  petition  was  brought  forward 
by  a  mob  with  the  evident  purpose  of  intimidation, 
and  was  justly  rejected.  But  the  attempt  was  accom- 
panied and  followed  by  such  daring  violence  as  is^ 
unexampled  in  history.  Of  this  extraordinary  tumult 
Dr.  Johnson  has  given  the  following  concise,  lively, 
and  just  account  in  his  Letters  to  Mrs.  Thrale :  ^ 

'On  Friday*  the  good  Protestants  met  in  Saint  George's 
Fields,  at  the  summons  of  Lord  George  Gordon,  and  marching 
to  Westminster,  insulted  the  Lords  and  Commons,  who  all 
bore  it  with  great  tameness.  At  night  the  outrages  began  by 
the  demolition  of  the  mass-house  by  Lincoln's  Inn. 

'An  exact  journal  of  a  week's  defiance  of  government  I 
cannot  give  you.  On  Monday  Mr.  Strahan,  who  had  been 
insulted,  spoke  to  Lord  Mansfield,  who  had,  I  think,  been 
insulted  too,  of  the  licentiousness  of  the  popvdace ;  and  his 
Lordship  treated  it  as  a  very  slight  irregularity.  On  Tuesday 
night  they  pulled  down  Fielding's  house,'  and  burnt  his  good» 

1  Vol.  ii.  p.  135,  et  seq.  I  have  selected  passages  from  several  letters, 
without  mentioning  dates.  *  June  2. 

3  [This  is  not  quite  correct.  Sir  John  Fielding  was,  I  think,  then 
dead.  It  was  Justice  Hyde's  house  in  St.  Martin's  Street,  Leicester 
Fields,  that  was  gutted  and  his  goods  burnt  in  the  street. — Burnev.) 


126  LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON        [1780 

in  the  street.  They  had  gutted  on  Monday  Sir  George  Savile's 
house,  but  the  building  was  saved.  On  Tuesday  evening, 
leaving  Fielding's  ruins,  they  went  to  Newgate  to  demand 
their  companions,  who  had  been  seized  demolishing  the  chapel. 
The  keeper  could  not  release  them  but  by  the  Mayor's  per- 
mission, which  he  went  to  ask ;  at  his  return  he  found  all  the 
prisoners  released  and  Newgate  in  a  blaze.  They  then  went 
to  Bloomsbury  and  fastened  upon  Lord  Mansfield's  house, 
which  they  pulled  down ;  and  as  for  his  goods,  they  totally 
burnt  them.  They  have  since  gone  to  Caen-wood,  but  a 
guard  was  there  before  them.  They  plundered  some  Papists, 
I  think,  and  burnt  a  mass-house  in  Moorfields  the  same  night. 

'  On  Wednesday  I  walked  with  Dr.  Scot  to  look  at  Newgate, 
and  found  it  in  ruins  with  the  fire  yet  glowing.  As  I  went 
by  the  Protestants  were  plundering  the  Sessions  House  at  the 
Old  Bailey.  There  were  not,  I  believe,  a  himdred ;  but  they 
did  their  work  at  leisure,  in  full  secxirity,  without  sentinels, 
without  trepidation,  as  men  lawfully  employed  in  full  day. 
Such  is  the  cowardice  of  a  commercial  place.  On  Wednesday 
they  broke  open  the  Fleet,  and  the  King's  Bench,  and  the 
Marshalsea,  and  Wood  Street  Compter,  and  Clerkenwell 
Bridewell,  and  released  all  the  prisoners. 

'  At  night  they  set  fire  to  the  Fleet  and  to  the  King's  Bench, 
and  I  know  not  how  many  other  places ;  and  one  might  see 
the  glare  of  conflagration  fill  the  sky  from  many  parts.  The 
sight  was  dreadfuL  Some  people  were  threatened:  Mr. 
Strahan  advised  me  to  take  care  of  myself.  Such  a  time  of 
terror  you  have  been  happy  in  not  seeing. 

'The  king  said  in  council,  "That  the  magistrates  had  not 
done  their  duty,  but  that  he  would  do  his  own ; "  and  a 
proclamation  was  published  directing  us  to  keep  our  servants 
within  doors,  as  the  peace  was  now  to  be  preserved  by  force. 
The  soldiers  were  sent  out  to  different  parts,  and  the  town  is 
now  [June  9]  at  quiet. 

'  The  soldiers  are  stationed  so  as  to  be  everywhere  within 
call:  there  is  no  longer  any  body  of  rioters,  and  the  indi- 
viduals are  hunted  to  their  holes  and  led  to  prison ;  Lord 
Greorge  was  last  night  sent  to  the  Tower.  Mr.  John  Wilkes 
was  this  day  in  my  neighbourhood  to  seize  the  publisher  of  a 
seditious  paper. 


^T.  71]    LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON         127 

'  Several  chapels  have  been  destroyed,  and  several  inoffen- 
sive Papists  have  been  plundered,  but  the  high  sport  was  to 
bum  the  jails.  This  was  a  good  rabble  trick.  The  debtors 
and  the  criminals  were  all  set  at  liberty ;  but  of  the  criminals, 
as  has  always  happened,  many  are  already  retaken ;  and  two 
pirates  have  surrendered  themselves,  and  it  is  expected  that 
they  will  be  pardoned. 

'  Government  now  acts  again  with  its  proper  force ;  and 
we  are  all  under  the  protection  of  the  king  and  the  law.  I 
thought  that  it  would  be  agreeable  to  you  and  my  master  to 
have  my  testimony  to  the  public  security ;  and  that  you 
would  sleep  more  quietly  when  I  told  you  that  you  are  safe. 

'There  has,  indeed,  been  an  universal  panic,  from  which 
the  king  was  the  first  that  recovered.  Without  the  concur- 
rence of  his  ministers,  or  the  assistance  of  the  civil  magistrates, 
he  put  the  soldiers  in  motion,  and  saved  the  town  from 
calamities  such  as  a  rabble's  government  must  naturally 
produce. 

'  The  public  has  escaped  a  very  heavy  calamity.  The  rioters 
attempted  the  Bank  on  Wednesday  night,  but  in  no  great 
number ;  and  like  other  thieves,  with  no  great  resolution- 
Jack  Wilkes  headed  the  party  that  drove  them  away.  It  is 
agreed,  that  if  they  had  seized  the  Bank  on  Tuesday,  at  the 
height  of  the  panic,  when  no  resistance  had  been  prepared, 
they  might  have  carried  irrecoverably  away  whatever  they 
had  found.  Jack,  who  was  always  zealous  for  order  and 
decency,  declares  that  if  he  be  tnisted  with  power  he  will  not 
leave  a  rioter  alive.  There  is,  however,  now  no  longer  any 
need  of  heroism  or  bloodshed ;  no  blue  riband  ^  is  any  longer 
worn.' 

Such  was  the  end  of  this  miserable  sedition^  from 
which  London  was  delivered  by  the  magnanimity  of 
the  Sovereign  himself.  Whatever  some  may  main- 
tain, I  am  satisfied  that  there  was  no  combination  or 
plan,  either  domestic  or  foreign ;  but  that  the  mis- 
chief  spread    by    a    gradual    contagion    of   frenzy, 

1  [Lord  George  Gordon  and  his  followers,  during  these  outrages, 
wore  blue  ribands  in  their  hats. — M.] 


128         LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON       [1780 

augmented  by  the  quantities  of  fermented  liquors, 
of  which  the  deluded  populace  possessed  themselves 
in  the  course  of  their  depredations. 

I  should  think  myself  very  much  to  blame,  did  I 
here  neglect  to  do  justice  to  my  esteemed  friend  Mr. 
Akerman,  the  keeper  of  Newgate,  who  long  discharged 
a  very  important  trust  with  an  uniform  intrepid  firm- 
ness, and  at  the  same  time  a  tenderness  and  a  liberal 
charity,  which  entitle  him  to  be  recorded  with  dis- 
tinguished honour. 

Upon  this  occasion,  from  the  timidity  and  negli- 
gence of  magistracy  on  the  one  hand,  and  the  almost 
incredible  exertions  of  the  mob  on  the  other,  the  first 
prison  of  this  great  country  was  laid  open,  and  the 
prisoners  set  free ;  but  that  Mr.  Akerman,  whose 
house  was  burnt,  would  have  prevented  all  this,  had 
proper  aid  been  sent  him  in  due  time,  there  can  be 
no  doubt. 

Many  years  ago,  a  fire  broke  out  in  the  brick  part, 
which  was  built  as  an  addition  to  the  old  jaU  of 
Newgate.  The  prisoners  were  in  consternation  and 
tumult,  calling  out,  '  We  shall  be  burnt — we  shall  be 
burnt !  Down  with  the  gate  ! — down  with  the  gate  ! ' 
Mr.  Akerman  hastened  to  them,  showed  himself  at 
the  gate,  and  having,  after  some  confused  vocifera- 
tion of  '  Hear  him — hear  him  ! '  obtained  a  silent 
attention,  he  then  calmly  told  them  that  the  gate 
must  not  go  down ;  that  they  were  under  his  care, 
and  that  they  should  not  be  permitted  to  escape ; 
but  that  he  could  assure  them,  they  need  not  be 
afraid  of  being  burnt,  for  that  the  fire  was  not  in  the 
prison,  properly  so  called,  which  was  strongly  built 
with  stone ;   and  that  if  they  would  engage  to  be 


iET.yi]    LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON  12& 

quiet,  he  himself  would  come  in  to  them,  and  conduct 
them  to  the  farther  end  of  the  building,  and  would 
not  go  out  tUl  they  gave  him  leave.  To  this  proposal 
they  agreed ;  upon  which  Mr.  Akerman,  having  first 
made  them  fall  back  from  the  gate,  went  in,  and  witn 
a  determined  resolution  ordered  the  outer  turnkey 
upon  no  account  to  open  the  gate,  even  though  the 
prisoners  (though  he  trusted  they  would  not)  should 
break  their  word,  and  by  force  bring  himself  to  order 
it.  'Never  mind  me  (said  he)  should  that  happen.' 
The  prisoners  peaceably  followed  him,  while  he  con- 
ducted them  through  passages  of  which  he  had  the 
keys,  to  the  extremity  of  the  jail,  which  was  most 
distant  from  the  fire.  Having  by  this  very  judicious 
conduct  fully  satisfied  them  that  there  was  no 
immediate  risk,  if  any  at  all,  he  then  addressed  them 
thus  :  '  Gentlemen,  you  are  now  convinced  that  I  told 
you  true.  I  have  no  doubt  that  the  engines  will  soon 
extinguish  this  fire ;  if  they  should  not,  a  su£Gicient 
guard  will  come,  and  you  shall  be  all  taken  out  and 
lodged  in  the  Compters.  I  assure  you,  upon  my  word 
and  honour,  that  I  have  not  a  farthing  insured.  I 
have  left  my  house  that  I  might  take  care  of  you. 
I  will  keep  my  promise,  and  stay  with  you  if  you 
insist  upon  it ;  but  if  you  will  allow  me  to  go  out  and 
look  after  my  family  and  property,  I  shall  be  obliged 
to  you.'  Struck  with  his  behaviour,  they  called  out, 
*  Master  Akerman,  you  have  done  bravely ;  it  was 
very  kind  in  you ;  by  all  means  go  and  take  care  of 
your  own  concerns.'  He  did  so  accordingly,  while 
they  remained,  and  were  all  preserved. 

Johnson  has  been  heard  to  relate  the  substance  of 
this  story  with  high  praise,  in  which  he  was  joined  by 

vol..  v.  I 


130  LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON        [1780 

Mr.  Burke.  My  illustrious  friend,  speaking  of  Mr. 
Akerman's  kindness  to  his  prisoners,  pronounced  this 
eulogy  upon  his  character :  '  He  who  has  long  had 
constantly  in  his  view  the  worst  of  mankind,  and  is 
yet  eminent  for  the  humanity  of  his  disposition,  must 
have  had  it  originally  in  a  great  degree,  and  continued 
to  cultivate  it  very  carefully.' 

In  the  course  of  this  month  my  brother  David  waited 
upon  Dr.  Johnson  with  the  following  letter  of  intro- 
duction, which  1  had  taken  care  should  be  lying  ready 
on  his  arrival  in  London  : — 

TO   DR.   SAMUEL   JOHNSON 

'  Edinburgh,  April  29,  1780. 
'My  DEAR  Sib, — This  will  be  delivered  to  you  by  my 
brother  David  on  his  return  from  Spain.  You  will  be  glad 
to  see  the  man  who  vowed  to  "stand  by  the  old  castle  of 
Auchinleck,  with  heart,  purse,  and  sword " :  that  romantic 
family  solemnity  devised  by  me,  of  which  you  and  I  talked 
with  complacency  upon  the  spot.  I  trust  that  twelve  years 
of  absence  have  not  lessened  his  feudal  attachment ;  and  that 
you  will  find  him  worthy  of  being  introduced  to  your  acquaint- 
ance.— I  have  the  honour  to  be,  with  affectionate  veneration, 
my  dear  sir,  your  most  faithful  himible  servant, 

'James  Boswell.' 

Johnson  received  him  very  politely,  and  has  thus 
mentioned  him  in  a  letter  to  Mrs.  Thrale  :  ^ 

'I  HAVE  had  with  me  a  brother  of  BosweU's,  a  Spanish 
merchant,  2  whom  the  war  has  driven  from  his  residence  at 
Valencia ;  he  is  gone  to  see  his  friends,  and  will  find  Scotland 
but  a  sorry  place  after  twelve  years'  residence  in  a  happier 
climate.    He  is  a  very  agreeable  man,  and  speaks  no  Scotch.' 


1  Mrs.  Piozz:  has  omitted  the  name,  she  best  knows  why. 
*  Now  settled  in  London. 


^T.  7i]     LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  131 

TO   DR.  BEATTIE,  AT   ABERDEEN 

'  Sib, — More  years  ^  than  I  have  any  delight  to  reckon  have 
passed  since  you  and  I  saw  one  another :  of  this,  however,  there 
is  no  reason  for  making  reprehensory  complaint : — Sic  fata 
ferunt.  But  methinks  there  might  pass  some  small  inter- 
change of  regard  between  us.  If  you  say  that  I  ought  to  have 
written,  I  now  write ;  and  I  write  to  tell  you  that  I  have  much 
kindness  for  you  and  IVIrs.  Beattie ;  and  that  I  wish  your 
health  better  and  your  life  long.  Try  change  of  air,  and 
come  a  few  degrees  southwards ;  a  softer  climate  may  do  you 
both  good ;  winter  is  coming  in ;  and  London  will  be  warmer, 
and  gayer,  and  busier,  and  more  fertile  of  amusement  than 
Aberdeen. 

'  My  health  is  better ;  but  that  will  be  little  in  the  balance 
when  I  tell  you  that  Mrs.  Montagu  has  been  very  ill,  and 
is,  I  doubt,  now  but  weakly.  Mr.  Thrale  has  been  very 
dangerously  disordered ;  but  is  much  better,  and  I  hope  will 
totally  recover.  He  has  withdrawn  himself  from  business  the 
whole  summer.  Sir  Joshua  and  his  sister  are  well ;  and  Mr. 
Davies  has  got  great  success  as  an  author,  ^  generated  by  the 
corruption  of  a  bookseller.  More  news  I  have  not  to  tell  you, 
and  therefore  you  must  be  contented  with  hearing  what  I 
know  not  whether  you  much  wish  to  hear,^  that  I  am,  sir, 
your  most  humble  servant,  Sam.  Johnson. 

'Bolt  Court,  Meet  Street, 
'Augusta,  1780.' 

TO   JAMES  BOSWELLj  ESQ. 

'Dear  Sra, — I  find  you  have  taken  one  of  your  fits  of 
taciturnity,  and  have  resolved  not  to  write  till  you  are  written 

*  1  had  been  five  years  absent  from  London. — Beattie. 

2  Meaning  his  entertaining  Memoirs  of  David  Garrick,  Esq.,  of 
which  Johnson  (as  Davies  informed  me)  wrote  the  first  sentence  ;  thus 
giving,  as  it  were,  the  keynote  to  the  performance.  It  is,  indeed,  very 
characteristical  of  its  author,  beginning  with  a  maxim  and  proceeding 
to  illustrate.  '  All  excellence  has  a  right  to  be  recorded.  I  shall, 
therefore,  think  it  superfluous  to  apologise  for  writing  the  life  of  a  man 
who,  by  an  uncommon  assemblage  of  private  virtues,  adorned  the 
highest  eminence  in  a  public  profession.' 

8  1  wish  he  had  omitted  the  suspicion  expressed  here,  though  I 
believe  he  meant  nothing  but  jocularity :  for  though  he  and  I  dinered 
sometimes  in  opinion,  be  well  knew  how  much  I  loved  and  revered 
him.— Beattie. 


132  LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1780 

to;  it  is  but  a  peevish  humour,  but  you  shall  have  your 
way. 

'  I  have  sat  at  home  in  Bolt  Court  all  the  summer  thinking 
to  write  the  Lives,  and  a  great  part  of  the  time  only  thinking. 
Several  of  them,  however,  are  done,  and  I  stiU  think  to  do 
the  rest. 

'Mr.  Thrale  and  his  famDy  have,  since  his  illness,  passed 
their  time  first  at  Bath,  and  then  at  Brighthelmstone  ;  but  I 
have  been  at  neither  place.  I  would  have  gone  to  Lichfield 
if  I  could  have  had  time,  and  I  might  have  had  time  if  I  had 
been  active ;  but  I  have  missed  much  and  done  little. 

'  In  the  late  disturbances  Mr.  Thrale's  house  and  stock  were 
in  great  danger ;  the  mob  was  pacified  at  their  first  invasion, 
with  about  £50  in  drink  and  meat ;  and  at  their  second,  were 
driven  away  by  the  soldiers.  Mr.  Strahan  got  a  g^arrison 
into  his  house,  and  maintained  them  a  fortnight ;  he  was  so 
frighted  that  he  removed  part  of  his  goods.  Mrs.  "WUliams 
took  shelter  in  the  country. 

'  I  know  not  whether  I  shall  get  a  ramble  this  autumn ;  it 
is  now  about  the  time  when  we  were  travelling.  I  have, 
however,  better  health  than  I  had  then,  and  hope  you  and 
I  may  yet  show  ourselves  on  some  part  of  Europe,  Asia,  or 
Africa.^  In  the  meantime  let  us  play  no  trick,  but  keep  each 
other's  kindness  by  all  means  in  our  power. 

'The  bearer  of  this  is  Dr.  Dunbar  of  Aberdeen,  who  has 
written  and  published  a  very  ingenious  book,^  and  who  I 
think  has  a  kindness  for  me,  and  will,  when  he  knows  you, 
have  a  kindness  for  you. 

'  I  suppose  your  little  ladies  are  grown  tall :  and  your  son 
has  become  a  learned  young  man.  I  love  them  all,  and  I 
love  your  naughty  lady,  whom  I  never  shall  persuade  to  love 
me.    When  the  Ldves  are  done  I  shall  send  them  to  complete 


1  It  will  no  doubt  be  remarked  how  he  avoids  the  rebellious  land  of 
America.  This  puts  me  in  mind  of  an  anecdote  for  which  I  am  obliged 
to  my  worthy  social  friend,  Governor  Richard  Penn  : — '  At  one  of  Miss 
E.  Hervey's  assemblies  Dr.  Johnson  was  following  her  up  and  down 
the  room:  upon  which  Lord  Abington  observed  to  her,  Your  great 
friend  is  very  fond  of  you  ;  you  can  go  nowhere  without  him."  "  Ay 
(said  she),  he  would  follow  me  to  any  part  of  the  world."  "  Then  (said 
the  Earl),  ask  him  to  go  with  you  to  America." ' 

*  Essays  on  the  History  of  Mankind. 


iET.  7i]     LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  133 

her  collection,  but  must  send  them  in  paper,  as  for  want  of  a 
pattern  I  cannot  bind  them  to  fit  the  rest. — I  am,  sir,  yours 
most  affectionately,  Sam.  JomjsoN. 

'London,  Aug.  21,  1780.' 

This  year  he  wrote  to  a  young  clergyman  in  the 
country  the  following  very  excellent  letter^  which 
contains  valuable  advice  to  divines  in  general : — 

'Deab  Sib, — Not  many  days  ago  Dr.  Lawrence  showed  me 
a  letter,  in  which  you  make  mention  of  me ;  I  hope,  there- 
fore, you  will  not  be  displeased  that  I  endeavour  to  preserve 
your  good-will  by  some  observations  which  your  letter  sug- 
gested to  me. 

'You  are  afraid  of  falling  into  some  improprieties  in  the 
daily  service  by  reading  to  an  audience  that  requires  no  exact- 
ness. Your  fear,  I  hope,  secures  you  from  danger.  They 
who  contract  absurd  habits  are  such  as  have  no  fear.  It  is 
impossible  to  do  the  same  thing  very  often,  without  some 
peculiarity  of  manner :  but  that  manner  may  be  good  or  bad, 
and  a  little  care  will  at  least  preserve  it  from  being  bad ;  to 
make  it  good,  there  must,  I  think,  be  something  of  natural  or 
casual  felicity,  which  cannot  be  taught. 

'Your  present  method  of  making  your  sermons  seems  very 
judicious.  Few  frequent  preachers  can  be  supposed  to  have 
sermons  more  their  own  than  yours  will  be.  Take  care  to 
register,  somewhere  or  other,  the  authors  from  whom  your 
several  discourses  are  borrowed ;  and  do  not  imagine  that  you 
shall  always  remember,  even  what  perhaps  you  now  think  it 
impossible  to  forget. 

'My  advice,  however,  is,  that  you  attempt,  from  time  to 
time,  an  original  sermon ;  and  in  the  labour  of  composition, 
do  not  burden  your  mind  with  too  much  at  once ;  do  not 
exact  from  yourself  at  one  effort  of  excogitation,  propriety  of 
thought  and  elegance  of  expression.  Invent  first,  and  then 
embellish.  The  production  of  something,  where  nothing  waa 
before,  is  an  act  of  greater  energy  than  the  expansion  or 
decoration  of  the  thing  produced.  Set  down  diligently  your 
thoughts  as  they  arise  in  the  first  words  that  occur ;  and  when 


134         LIFE    OF   DR,    JOHNSON        [1780 

you  have  matter,  you  will  easily  give  it  form  :  nor,  perhaps, 
will  this  method  be  always  necessary:  for  by  habit,  your 
thoughts  and  diction  will  flow  together. 

'  The  composition  of  sermons  is  not  very  diflBcult :  the 
divisions  not  only  help  the  memory  of  the  hearer,  but  direct 
the  judgment  of  the  writer ;  they  supply  sources  of  invention, 
and  keep  every  part  in  its  proper  place. 

'What  I  like  least  in  your  letter  is  your  account  of  the 
manners  of  your  parish ;  from  which  I  gather,  that  it  has 
been  long  neglected  by  the  parson.  The  Dean  of  Carlisle,^ 
who  was  then  a  little  rector  in  Northamptonshire,  told  me, 
that  it  might  be  discerned  whether  or  no  there  was  a  clergy- 
man resident  in  a  parish,  by  the  civil  or  savage  manner  of 
the  people.  Such  a  congregation  as  yours  stands  in  need 
of  much  reformation ;  and  I  would  not  have  you  think  it 
impossible  to  reform  them.  A  very  savage  parish  was  civilised 
by  a  decayed  gentlewoman,  who  came  among  them  to  teach 
a  petty  school.  My  learned  friend,  Dr.  Wheeler  of  Oxford, 
when  he  was  a  young  man,  had  the  care  of  a  neighbouring 
parish  for  £15  a  year,  which  he  was  never  paid;  but  he 
counted  it  a  convenience,  that  it  compelled  him  to  make  a 
sermon  weekly.  One  woman  he  could  not  bring  to  the  com- 
munion; and  when  he  reproved  or  exhorted  her,  she  only 
answered,  that  she  was  no  scholar.  He  was  advised  to  set 
some  good  woman  or  man  of  the  parish,  a  little  wiser  than 
herself,  to  talk  to  her  in  a  language  level  to  her  mind. 
Such  honest,  I  may  call  them  holy,  artifices,  must  be 
practised  by  every  clergyman;  for  all  means  must  be  tried 
by  which  souls  may  be  saved.  Talk  to  your  people,  however, 
as  much  as  you  can;  and  you  will  find,  that  the  more 
frequently  you  converse  with  them  upon  religious  subjects, 
the  more  willingly  they  will  attend,  and  the  more  submis- 
sively they  will  learn.  A  clergyman's  diligence  always  makes 
him  venerable.  I  think  I  have  now  only  to  say,  that  in  the 
momentous  work  you  have  undertaken,  I  pray  God  to  bless 
you. — I  am,  sir,  your  most  humble  servant, 

'Sam.  Johnson. 

*BoU  CouH,  Aug.  30,  1780.' 


1  Dr.  Percy,  now  Bishop  of  Dromore. 


JET.  7i]     LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  135 

My  next  letters  to  him  were  dated  August  24,  Sep- 
tember 6,  and  October  1,  and  from  them  I  extract  the 
following  passages : — 

'  Mt  brother  David  and  I  find  the  long-indulged  fancy  of 
our  comfortable  meeting  again  at  Auchinleck,  so  well  realised, 
that  it  in  some  degree  confirms  the  pleasing  hopes  of  0  pre- 
clarum  diem  !  in  a  future  state. 

'  I  beg  that  you  may  never  again  harbour  a  suspicion  of 
my  indulging  a  peevish  humour,  or  playing  tricks  ;  you  will 
recollect,  that  when  I  confessed  to  you,  that  I  had  once  been 
intentionally  silent  to  try  your  regard,  I  gave  you  my  word 
and  honour  that  I  would  not  do  so  again. 

'  I  rejoice  to  hear  of  your  good  state  of  health  ;  I  pray  God 
to  continue  it  long.  I  have  often  said,  that  I  would  willingly 
have  ten  years  added  to  my  life,  to  have  ten  taken  from 
yours  ;  I  mean,  that  I  would  be  ten  years  older  to  have  you 
ten  years  younger.  But  let  me  be  thankful  for  the  years 
during  which  I  have  enjoyed  your  friendship,  and  please 
myself  with  the  hopes  of  enjoying  it  many  years  to  come  in 
this  state  of  being,  trusting  always,  that  in  another  state,  we 
shall  meet  never  to  be  separated.  Of  this  we  can  form  no 
notion ;  but  the  thought,  though  indistinct,  is  delightful, 
when  the  mind  is  calm  and  clear. 

'  The  riots  in  London  were  certainly  horrible ;  but  you  give 
me  no  account  of  your  own  situation  during  the  barbarous 
anarchy.  A  description  of  it  by  Dr.  Johnson  would  be  a 
great  painting ;  ^  you  might  write  another  London,  a  Poem. 

'I  am  charmed  with  your  condescending  afifectionate  ex- 
pression, "Let  us  keep  each  other's  kindness  by  all  the  means 
in  our  power  " :  my  revered  friend  !  how  elevating  is  it  to  my 
mind,  that  I  am  found  worthy  to  be  a  companion  to  Dr. 
Samuel  Johnson  !  All  that  you  have  said  in  grateful  praise 
of  Mr.  Walmsley,  I  have  long  thought  of  you ;  but  we  are 
both  Tories,  which  has  a  very  general  influence  upon  our 
sentiments.  I  hope  that  you  will  agree  to  meet  me  at  York, 
about  the  end  of  this  month ;  or  if  you  will  come  to  Carlisle, 
that  would  be  better  still,  in  case  the  Dean  be  there.    Please 


1  I  had  not  then  seen  his  letters  to  Mrs.  Thrale. 


136  LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON        [1780 

to  consider,  that  to  keep  each  other's  kindness,  we  should 
every  year  have  that  free  and  intimate  communication  of 
mind  which  can  be  had  only  when  we  are  together.  We 
should  have  both  our  solemn  and  our  pleasant  talk." 

'  I  write  now  for  the  third  time,  to  tell  you  that  my  desire 
for  our  meeting  this  autumn  is  much  increased.  I  wrote  to 
'Squire  Godfrey  Bosville,  my  Yorkshire  chief,  that  I  should, 
perhaps,  pay  him  a  visit,  as  I  was  to  hold  a  conference  with 
Dr.  Johnson  at  York.  I  give  you  my  word  and  honour  that 
I  said  not  a  word  of  his  inviting  you ;  but  he  wrote  to  me  as 
follows : 

'"I  need  not  tell  you  I  shall  be  happy  to  see  you  here  the 
latter  end  of  this  month,  as  you  propose ;  and  I  shaU  likewise 
be  in  hopes  that  you  will  persuade  Dr.  Johnson  to  finish  the  con- 
ference here.  It  will  add  to  the  favour  of  your  own  company, 
if  you  prevail  on  such  an  associate,  to  assist  your  observations. 
I  have  often  been  entertained  with  his  writings,  and  I  once 
belonged  to  a  club  of  which  he  was  a  ibember,  and  I  never 
spent  an  evening  there,  but  I  heard  something  from  him  well 
worth  remembering." 

'  We  have  thus,  my  dear  sir,  good  comfortable  quarters  in 
the  neighbourhood  of  York,  where  you  may  be  assured  we 
shall  be  heartily  welcome.  I  pray  you  then  resolve  to  set 
out;  and  let  not  the  year  1780  be  a  blank  in  our  social 
calendar,  and  in  that  record  of  wisdom  and  wit,  which  I  keep 
with  so  much  diligence,  to  your  honour,  and  the  instruction 
and  delight  of  others.' 

Mr.  Thrale  had  now  another  contest  for  the  repre- 
sentation in  Parliament  of  the  borough  of  Southwark, 
a,nd  Johnson  kindly  lent  him  his  assistance  by  writing 
advertisements  and  letters  for  him.  I  shall  insert  one 
as  a  specimen : 

TO   THE   WORTHY   ELECTORS   OP   THE   BOROUGH   OP 
SOUTHWARK 

'Gentlemen, — A  new  Parliament  being  now  called,  I  again 
solicit  the  honour  of  being  elected  for  one  of  your  repre- 


JET.  7i]     LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  137 

sentatives ;  and  solicit  it  with  the  greater  confidence,  as  I  am 
not  conscious  of  having  neglected  my  duty,  or  of  having  acted 
otherwise  than  as  becomes  the  independent  representative  of 
independent  constituents ;  superior  to  fear,  hope,  and  expecta- 
tion, who  has  no  private  purposes  to  promote,  and  whose 
prosperity  is  involved  in  the  prosperity  of  his  country.  As 
my  recovery  from  a  very  severe  distemper  is  not  yet  perfect, 
I  have  declined  to  attend  the  Hall,  and  hope  an  omission  so 
necessary  will  not  be  harshly  construed. 

'I  can  only  send  my  respectful  wishes,  that  all  your 
deliberations  may  tend  to  the  happiness  of  the  kingdom,  and 
the  peace  of  the  borough. — I  am,  gentlemen,  your  most  faithful 
and  obedient  servant,  ELenry  Thbaib. 

'Southwark,  Sept.  5, 1780.' 

TO    THE   BIGHT  HONOURABLE   liADT   SOUTHWELL,^ 
DUBLIN 

'Madam, — Among  the  numerous  addresses  of  condolence 
which  your  great  loss  must  have  occasioned,  be  pleased  to 
receive  this  from  one  whose  name  perhaps  you  have  never 
heard,  and  to  whom  your  Ladyship  is  known  only  by  the 
reputation  of  your  virtue,  and  to  whom  your  Lord  was  Imown 
only  by  his  kindness  and  beneficence. 

'  Your  Ladyship  is  now  again  summoned  to  exert  that  piety 
of  which  you  once  gave,  in  a  state  of  pain  and  danger,  so 
illustrious  an  example ;    and  your  Lord's  beneficence  may 


1  [Margaret,  the  second  daughter  and  one  of  the  co-heiresses  of 
Arthur  Cecil  Hamilton,  Esq.  She  was  married  in  1741  to  Thomas 
George,  the  third  Baron,  and  first  Viscount,  Southwell,  and  lived  with 
him  in  the  most  perfect  connubial  felicity  till  September  1780,  when 
Lord  Southwell  died  :  a  loss  which  she  never  ceased  to  lament  to  the 
hour  of  her  own  dissolution,  in  her  eighty-first  year,  August  16, 
1802. — The  'illustrious  example  of  piety  and  fortitude'  to  which  Dr. 
Johnson  alludes,  was  the  submitting,  when  past  her  fiftieth  year,  to  an 
extremely  painful  surgical  operation,  which  she  endured  with  extra- 
ordinary firmness  and  composure,  not  allowing  herself  to  be  tied  to  her 
chair,  nor  uttering  a  single  moan. — This  slight  tribute  of  aflFection  to 
the  memory  of  these  two  most  amiable  and  excellent  persons,  who  were 
not  less  distinguished  by  their  piety,  beneficence,  and  unbounded 
charity,  than  by  a  suavity  of  manners  which  endeared  them  to  all  who 
knew  them,  it  is  hoped,  will  be  forgiven  from  one  who  was  honoured 
by  their  kindness  and  friendship  from  his  childhood. — M.] 


188  LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON        [1780 

be  still  continued  by  those,  who  with  his  fortune  inherit  his 
virtues. 

'  I  hope  to  be  forgiven  the  liberty  which  I  shall  take  of 
informing  your  Ladyship,  that  Mr.  Mauritius  Lowe,  a  son  of 
your  late  Lord's  father,  ^  had,  by  recommendation  to  your 
Lord,  a  quarterly  allowance  of  £10,  the  last  of  which,  due 
July  26,  he  has  not  received :  he  was  in  hourly  hope  of  his 
remittance,  and  flattered  himself  that  on  October  26  he 
should  have  received  the  whole  half  year's  bounty,  when  he 
was  struck  with  the  dreadful  news  of  his  benefactor's  death. 

'  May  I  presume  to  hope,  that  his  want,  his  relation,  and 
his  merit,  which  excited  his  Lordship's  charity,  will  con- 
tinue to  have  the  same  effect  upon  those  whom  he  has  left 
behind ;  and  that,  though  he  has  lost  one  friend,  he  may  not 
yet  be  destitute  ?  Your  Ladyship's  charity  cannot  easily  be 
exerted  where  it  is  wanted  more  ;  and  to  a  mind  like  yours, 
distress  is  a  sufficient  recommendation. — I  hope  to  be  allowed 
the  honour  of  being,  madam,  your  Ladyship's  most  humble 
servant,  Sa3(.  Johnsox. 

*  BoU  Court,  Fleet  Street,  Lvndon, 
*Sept.  9,  1780.' 

On  his  birthday,  Johnson  has  this  note :  '  I  am 
now  beginning  the  seventy-second  year  of  my  life, 
with  more  strength  of  body  and  greater  vigour  of 
mind,  than  I  think  is  common  at  that  age.'  But 
still  he  complains  of  sleepless  nights  and  idle  days, 
and  forgetfulness,  or  neglect  of  resolutions.  He  thus 
pathetically  expresses  himself:    'Surely  I  shall  not 


1  [Thomas,  the  second  Lord  Southwell,  who  died  in  London  in  1766. 
Johnson  was  well  acquainted  with  this  nobleman,  and  said,  '  he  was 
the  highest  bred  man,  without  insolence,  that  he  was  ever  in  company 
with.'  His  younger  brother,  Edmund  Southwell,  lived  in  intimacy 
with  Johnson  for  many  years.  (See  an  account  of  him  in  Hawkins's 
£,ife  of  Johnson,  p.  405.)    He  died  in  London,  Nov.  22,  1772. 

In  opposition  to  the  Knight's  unfavourable  representation  of  this 
gentleman,  to  whom  I  was  indebted  for  my  first  introduction  to  John- 
son, I  take  this  opportunity  to  add,  that  he  appeared  to  me  a  pious 
man,  and  was  very  fond  of  leading  the  conversation  to  religious 
subjects. — M.  ] 


iET.  72]     LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON  13» 

spend  my  whole  life  with  my  own  total  disapproba- 
tion.' ^ 

Mr.  Macbean,  whom  I  have  mentioned  more  than 
once,  as  one  of  Johnson's  humble  friends,  a  deserving 
but  unfortunate  man,  being  now  oppressed  by  age  and 
poverty,  Johnson  solicited  the  Lord  Chancellor  Thur- 
low,  to  have  him  admitted  into  the  Charterhouse.  I 
take  the  liberty  to  insert  his  Lordship's  answer,  as  I 
am  eager  to  embrace  every  occasion  of  augmenting  the 
respectable  notion  which  should  ever  be  entertained 
of  my  illustrious  friend  : — 

TO    DR.   SAMUEL   JOHNSON 

'  London,  October  24,  1780. 

'Sib, — I  have  this  moment  received  your  letter  dated  the 
19th,  and  returned  from  Bath. 

*  In  the  beginning  of  the  simimer  I  placed  one  in  the  Char- 
treux,  without  the  sanction  of  a  recommendation  so  distinct 
and  so  authoritative  as  yours  of  Macbean ;  and  I  am  afraid, 
that  according  to  the  establishment  of  the  House,  the  oppor- 
tunity of  making  the  charity  so  good  amends  will  not  soon 
recur.  But  whenever  a  vacancy  shall  happen,  if  you'll 
favour  me  with  notice  of  it,  I  will  try  to  reconunend  him  to 
the  place,  even  though  it  should  not  be  my  turn  to  nominate. 
— I  am,  sir,  with  great  regard,  your  most  faithful  and  obedient 
servant,  Thurlow.' 

TO   JAMES   BOSWELL,  ESQ. 

'  Dkab  Sib, — I  am  sorry  to  write  you  a  letter  that  will  not 
please  you,  and  yet  it  is  at  last  what  I  resolve  to  do.  This 
year  must  pass  without  an  interview ;  the  summer  has  been 
foolishly  lost,  like  many  other  of  my  summers  and  winters. 
I  hardly  saw  a  green  field,  but  stayed  in  town  to  work,  with- 
out working  much. 

'  Mr.  Thrale's  loss  of  health  has  lost  him  the  election ;  he 
is  now  going  to  Brighthelmstone,  and  expects  me  to  go  with 

1  Prayers  and  MeditaiioHt,  p.  185. 


140  LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON        [1780 

him  ;  and  how  long  I  shall  stay,  I  cannot  tell.  I  do  not 
much  like  the  place,  but  yet  I  shall  go,  and  stay  while  my 
stay  ia  desired.  We  must,  therefore,  content  ourselves  with 
knowing,  what  we  know  as  well  as  man  can  know  the  mind  of 
man,  that  we  love  one  another,  and  that  we  wish  each  other's 
happiness,  and  that  the  lapse  of  a  year  cannot  lessen  our 
mutual  kindness. 

'I  was  pleased  to  be  told  that  I  accused  Mrs.  Boswell 
unjustly,  in  supposing  that  she  bears  me  ill-will.  I  love  you 
so  much,  that  I  would  be  glad  to  love  all  that  love  you,  and 
that  you  love ;  and  I  have  love  very  ready  for  Mrs.  Boswell, 
if  she  thinks  it  worthy  of  acceptance.  I  hope  all  the  young 
ladies  and  gentlemen  are  well. 

'  I  take  a  great  liking  to  your  brother.  He  tells  me  that  hia 
father  received  him  kindly,  but  not  fondly ;  however,  you 
seemed  to  have  lived  well  enough  at  Auchinleck,  while  you 
stayed.    Make  your  father  as  happy  as  you  can. 

'  You  lately  told  me  of  your  health :  I  can  tell  you  in 
return,  that  my  health  has  been  for  more  than  a  year  past, 
better  than  it  has  been  for  many  years  before.  Perhaps  it 
may  please  God  to  give  us  some  time  together  before  we  are 
parted. — I  am,  dear  sir,  yours  most  affectionately, 

'Sau.  Johkson. 

♦  Oct.  17, 1780.' 

TO   THE  BEV.  DH.  VYSE,  AT  LAMBETH 

'  Sir, — I  hope  you  vrill  forgive  the  liberty  I  take,  in  solicit- 
ing your  interposition  with  his  Grace  the  Archbishop:  my 
first  petition  was  successful,  and  I  therefore  venture  on  the 
second. 

'  The  matron  of  the  Chartreux  is  about  to  resign  her  place, 
and  Mrs.  Desmoulins,  a  daughter  of  the  late  Dr.  Swinfen,^ 
who  was  well  known  to  your  father,  is  desirous  of  succeeding 
her.  She  has  been  accustomed  by  keeping  a  boarding-school 
to  the  care  of  children,  and  I  think  is  very  likely  to  discharge 
her  duty.  She  is  in  great  distress,  and  therefore  may  pro- 
bably receive  the  benefit  of  a  charitable  foundation.    If  you 


1  [See  vol.  i.  p.  50.— M.] 


MT.72]     LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  141 

wish  to  see  her,  she  will  be  willing  to  give  an  account  of 
herself. 

'  If  you  shall  be  pleased,  sir,  to  mention  her  favourably  to 
his  Grace,  you  will  do  a  great  act  of  kindness  to,  sir,  your 
most  obliged,  and  most  humble  servant,  Sam.  Johnson, 

•  December  30,  1780.' 

Being  disappointed  in  my  hopes  of  meeting  Johnson 
this  year^  so  that  I  could  hear  none  of  his  admirable 
sayingSj  I  shall  compensate  for  this  want  by  inserting 
a  collection  of  them,  for  which  I  am  indebted  to  my 
worthy  friend  Mr.  Langton,  whose  kind  communica- 
tions have  been  separately  interwoven  in  many  parts 
of  this  work.  Very  few  articles  of  this  collection 
were  committed  to  writing  by  himself,  he  not  having 
that  habit;  which  he  regrets,  and  which  those  who 
know  the  numerous  opportunities  he  had  of  gathering 
the  rich  fruits  of  Johnsonian  wit  and  wisdom,  must 
ever  regret.  I  however  found,  in  conversation  with 
him,  that  a  good  store  of  Johnsoniana  was  treasured 
in  his  mind ;  and  I  compared  it  to  Herculaneum,  or 
some  old  Roman  field,  which  when  dug  fully  rewards 
the  labour  employed.  ITie  authenticity  of  every 
article  is  unquestionable.  For  the  expression,  1^ 
who  wrote  them  down  in  his  presence,  am  partly 
answerable. 

'Theocritus  is  not  deserving  of  very  high  respect 
as  a  writer ;  as  to  the  pastoral  part,  Virgil  is  very 
evidently  superior.  He  wrote,  when  there  had  been 
a  larger  influx  of  knowledge  into  the  world  than  when 
Theocritus  lived.  Theocritus  did  not  abound  in 
description,  though  living  in  a  beautiful  country  :  the 
manners  painted  are  coarse  and  gross.  Virgil  ha» 
much   more   description,    more    sentiment,   more  of 


142  LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1780 

nature,  and  more  of  art.  Some  of  the  most  excellent 
parts  of  Theocritus  are,  where  Castor  and  Pollux, 
going  with  the  other  Argonauts,  land  on  the  Bebrycian 
coast,  and  there  fall  into  a  dispute  with  Amycus,  the 
king  of  that  country :  which  is  as  well  conducted  as 
Euripides  could  have  done  it ;  and  the  battle  is  well 
related.  Afterwards  they  carry  off  a  woman,  whose 
two  brothers  come  to  recover  her,  and  expostulate 
with  Castor  and  Pollux  on  their  injustice ;  but  they 
pay  no  regard  to  the  brothers,  and  a  battle  ensues, 
where  Castor  and  his  brother  are  triumphant.  Theo- 
critus seems  not  to  have  seen  that  the  brothers  have 
the  advantage  in  their  argument  over  his  Argonaut 
heroes.     The  Sicilian  Gossips  is  a  piece  of  merit.' 

'  Callimachus  is  a  writer  of  little  excellence.  The 
chief  thing  to  be  learned  from  him  is  his  account  of 
Rites  and  Mythology ;  which,  though  desirable  to  be 
known  for  the  sake  of  understanding  other  parts  of 
ancient  authors,  is  the  least  pleasing  or  valuable  part 
of  their  writings.' 

'Mattaire's  account  of  the  Stephani  is  a  heavy 
Tiook.  He  seems  to  have  been  a  puzzle-headed  man, 
with  a  large  share  of  scholarship,  but  with  a  little 
geometry  or  logic  in  his  head,  without  method,  and 
possessed  of  little  genius.  He  wrote  Latin  verses 
from  time  to  time,  and  published  a  set  in  his  old  age, 
which  he  called  Senilia,  in  which  he  shows  so  little 
learning  or  taste  in  writing  as  to  make  Carteret  a 
dactyl.  In  matters  of  genealogy  it  is  necessary  to 
give  the  bare  names  as  they  are ;  but  in  poetry,  and 
in  prose  of  any  elegance  in  the  writing,  they  require 
to  have  inflection  given  to  them.  His  book  of  the 
Dialects  is  a  sad  heap  of  confusion ;  the  only  way  to 


^T.  70     LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  143 

write  on  them  is  to  tabulate  them  with  notes,  added 
at  the  bottom  of  the  page,  and  references.' 

'It  may  be  questioned  whether  there  is  not  some 
mistake  as  to  the  methods  of  employing  the  poor, 
seemingly  on  a  supposition  that  there  is  a  certain 
portion  of  work  left  undone  for  want  of  persons  to  do 
it ;  but  if  that  is  otherM'ise,  and  all  the  materials  we 
have  are  actually  worked  up,  or  all  the  manufactures 
we  can  use  or  dispose  of  are  already  executed,  then 
what  is  given  to  the  poor,  who  are  to  be  set  at  work, 
must  be  taken  from  some  who  now  have  it :  as  time 
must  be  taken  for  learning  (according  to  Sir  WUliam 
Petty's  observation),  a  certain  part  of  those  very 
materials  that,  as  it  is,  are  properly  worked  up,  must 
be  spoiled  by  the  unskilfulness  of  novices.  We  may 
apply  to  well-meaning,  but  misjudging,  persons  in 
particulars  of  this  nature,  what  Giannone  said  to  a 
monk,  who  wanted  what  he  called  to  convert  him : 
"  Tu  set  santo,  ma  tu  non  sci  filosopho."  It  is  an  un- 
happy circumstance  that  one  might  give  away  five 
hundred  pounds  in  a  year  to  those  that  importune  in 
the  streets  and  not  do  any  good.' 

'There  is  nothing  more  likely  to  betray  a  man 
into  absurdity  than  condescension ;  when  he  seems 
to  suppose  his  understanding  too  powerful  for  his 
company.' 

'  Having  asked  Mr.  Langton  if  his  father  and  mother 
had  sat  for  their  pictures,  which  he  thought  it  right 
for  each  generation  of  a  family  to  do,  and  being  told 
they  had  opposed  it,  he  said,  "  Sir,  among  the  anfrac- 
tuosities  of  the  human  mind,  I  know  not  if  it  may  not 
be  one,  that  there  is  a  superstitious  reluctance  to  sit 
for  a  picture.'" 


144  LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON        [1780 

'John  Gilbert  Cooper  related  that  soon  after  the 
publication  of  his  Dictionary,  Garrick  being  asked  by 
Johnson  what  people  said  of  it,  told  him,  that  among 
other  animadversions,  it  was  objected  that  he  cited 
authorities  which  were  beneath  the  dignity  of  such  a 
work,  and  mentioned  Richardson.  "  Nay  (said  John- 
son), I  have  done  worse  than  that :  I  have  cited  thee, 
David." '1 

'  Talking  of  expense,  he  observed  with  what  muni- 
ficence a  great  merchant  will  spend  his  money,  both 
from  his  having  it  at  command,  and  from  his  enlarged 
views  by  calculation  of  a  good  effect  upon  the  whole. 
''Whereas  (said  he),  you  will  hardly  ever  find  a 
country  gentleman  who  is  not  a  good  deal  discon- 
certed at  an  unexpected  occasion  for  his  being  obliged 
to  lay  out  ten  pounds." ' 

*  WTien  in  good  humour  he  would  talk  of  his  own 
writings  with  a  wonderful  frankness  and  candour,  and 
would  even  criticise  them  with  the  closest  severity. 
One  day,  having  read  over  one  of  his  Ramblers,  Mr. 
Langton  asked  him  how  he  liked  that  paper;  he 
shook  his  head  and  answered,  "too  wordy."  At 
another  time,  when  one  was  reading  his  tragedy  of 
Irene  to  a  company  at  a  house  in  the  country,  he  left 
the  room :  and  somebody  having  asked  him  the 
reason  of  this,  he  replied,  "  Sir,  I  thought  it  had  been 
better."' 

'  Talking  of  a  point  of  delicate  scrupulosity  of  moral 
conduct,  he  said  to  Mr.  Langton,  "Men  of  harder 
minds  than  ours  will  do  many  things  from  which  you 
and  I  would  shrink ;  yet,  sir,  they  will   perhaps  do 


1  [Sec  the  Dictionary  under  Gigsler.—K.  B.] 


jET.yi]    LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON  145 

more  good  in  life  than  we.  But  let  us  try  to  help 
one  another.  If  there  be  a  wrong  twist  it  may  be  set 
right.  It  is  not  probable  that  two  people  can  be 
wrong  the  same  way."  ' 

*  Of  the  preface  to  Capel's  Shakespeare  he  said,  "  If 
the  man  would  have  come  to  me  I  would  have  en- 
deavoured to  '  endow  his  purposes  with  words,'  for  as 
it  is,  he  doth  '  gabble  monstrously.' " ' 

*  He  related  that  he  had  once  in  a  dream  a  contest 
of  wit  with  some  other  person,  and  that  he  was  very 
much  mortified  by  imagining  that  his  opponent  had 
the  better  of  him.  ''Now  (said  he),  one  may  mark 
here  the  effect  of  sleep  in  weakening  the  power  of 
reflection ;  for  had  not  my  judgment  failed  me  I 
should  have  seen  that  the  wit  of  this  supposed  ant- 
agonist, by  whose  superiority  I  felt  myself  depressed, 
was  as  much  furnished  by  me  as  that  which  I  thought 
I  had  been  uttering  in  my  own  character.'" 

*  One  evening  in  company,  an  ingenious  and  learned 
gentleman  read  to  him  a  letter  of  compliment  which 
he  had  received  from  one  of  the  professors  of  a  foreign 
university.  Johnson,  in  an  irritable  fit,  thinking 
there  was  too  much  ostentation,  said,  "I  never  receive 
any  of  these  tributes  of  applause  from  abroad.  One 
instance  I  recollect  of  a  foreign  publication,  in  which 
mention  is  made  of  fillustre  Lockman." '  ^ 

'  Of  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  he  said,  "  Sir,  I  know  no- 
man  who  has  passed  through  life  with  more  observation 
than  Reynolds.'" 

'  He  repeated  to  Mr.  Langton,  with  great  energy  in 
the  Greek,  our  Saviour's  gracious  expression  concem- 

1  Secretary  to  the  British  Herring  Fishery,  remarkable  for  an  extra- 
ordinary number  of  occasional  verses,  not  of  eminent  merit. 


146  LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON        [1780 

ing  the  forgiveness  of  Mary  Magdalene,  'H  ttio-tis  trov 
a-eacoKe  ae'  nopevov  tls  elprjvrjv. — "  Thy  faith  hath  saved 
thee;  go  in  peace."  He  said,  ''The  manner  of  this 
dismission  is  exceedingly  affecting.'" 

'He  thus  defined  the  difference  between  physical 
and  moral  truth  :  "  Physical  truth  is  when  you  tell  a 
thing  as  it  actually  is.  Moral  truth  is  when  you  tell 
a  thing  sincerely  and  precisely  as  it  appears  to  you.  I 
say  such  a  one  walked  across  the  street ;  if  he  really 
did  so,  I  told  a  physical  truth.  If  I  thought  so, 
though  I  should  have  been  mistaken,  I  told  a  moral 
truth."' 

'Huggins,  the  translator  of  Ariosto,  and  Mr. 
Thomas  Warton,  in  the  early  part  of  his  literary 
life,  had  a  dispute  concerning  that  poet,  of  whom 
Mr.  Warton,  on  his  Observations  on  Spenser's  Fairy 
Queen,  gave  some  account  which  Huggins  attempted 
to  answer  with  violence,  and  said,  "  I  will  militate  no 
longer  against  his  nescience."  Huggins  was  master  of 
the  subject,  but  wanted  expression.  Mr.  Warton's 
knowledge  of  it  was  then  imperfect,  but  his  manner 
lively  and  elegant.  Johnson  said,  "  It  appears  to  me 
that  Huggins  has  ball  without  powder,  and  Warton 
powder  without  ball." ' 

'Talking  of  the  farce  of  High  Life  below  Stairs," 
he  said,  "Here  is  a  farce  which  is  really  very  diverting 
when  you  see  it  acted ;  and  yet  one  may  read  it,  and 
not  know  that  one  has  been  reading  anything  at  all." ' 

'He  used  at  one  time  to  go  occasionally  to  the 
green-room  of  Drury  Lane  Theatre,  where  he  was 
much  regarded  by  the  players,  and  was  very  easy  and 
facetious  with  them.  He  had  a  very  high  opinion  of 
Mrs,  dive's  comic  powers,  and  conversed  more  with  her 


MT.7I]    LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON         147 

than  with  any  of  them.  He  said,  "  Clive,  sir,  is  a  good 
thing  to  sit  by ;  she  always  understands  what  you 
say."  And  she  said  of  him,  "I  love  to  sit  by  Dr. 
Johnson ;  he  always  entertains  me."  One  night, 
when  The  Recruiting  Officer  was  acted,  he  said  to  Mr. 
Holland,  who  had  been  expressing  an  apprehension 
that  Dr.  Johnson  would  disdain  the  works  of  Farquhar: 
''No,  sir.  I  think  Farquhar  a  man  whose  writings 
have  considerable  merit." ' 

'  His  friend  Garrick  was  so  busy  in  conducting  the 
drama,  that  they  could  not  have  so  much  intercourse 
as  Mr.  Garrick  used  to  profess  an  anxious  wish  that 
there  should  be.^  There  might,  indeed,  be  something 
in  the  contemptuous  severity  as  to  the  merit  of  acting, 
which  this  old  preceptor  nourished  in  himself,  that 
would  mortify  Garrick  after  the  great  applause  which 
he  received  from  the  audience.  For  though  Johnson 
said  of  him,  "  Sir,  a  man  who  has  a  nation  to  admire 
him  every  night  may  well  be  expected  to  be  some- 
what elated"  :  yet  he  would  treat  theatrical  matters 
with  a  ludicrous  slight.  He  mentioned  one  evening, 
"1  met  David  coming  off  the  stage,  dressed  in  a 
woman's  riding-hood,  when  he  acted  in  The  Wonder.^ 
I  came  full  upon  him,  and  I  believe  he  was  not 
pleased." ' 

'  Once  he  asked  Tom  Davies,  whom  he  saw  dressed  in 
a  fine  suit  of  clothes,  ''and  what  art  thou  to-night."*" 
Tom  answered,  "  The  Thane  of  Ross  "  (which  it  will  be 
recollected  is  a  very  inconsiderable  character) ;  "  O, 
brave  !"  said  Johnson.* 


1  [In  a  letter  written  by  Johnson  to  a  friend  in  Jan.  1742-3,  be  says, 
'I  never  see  Garrick." — M.] 
a  [By  Mrs.  Centlivre.— A.  B.) 


148  LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1780 

'  Of  Mr.  Longley,  at  Rochester,  a  gentleman  of  very 
considerable  learning,  whom  Dr.  Johnson  met  there, 
he  said,  "  My  heart  warms  towards  him.  I  was  sur- 
prised to  find  in  him  such  a  nice  acquaintance  with 
the  metre  in  the  learned  languages  :  though  I  was 
somewhat  mortified  that  I  had  it  not  so  much  to 
myself  as  I  should  have  thought.'" 

*  Talking  of  the  minuteness  with  which  people  will 
record  the  sayings  of  eminent  persons,  a  story  was 
told  that  when  Pope  was  on  a  visit  to  Spence  at 
Oxford,  as  they  looked  from  the  window  they  saw  a 
gentleman-commoner,  who  was  just  come  in  from 
riding,  amusing  himself  with  whipping  at  a  post.  Pope 
took  occasion  to  say,  "  That  young  gentleman  seems 
to  have  little  to  do."  Mr.  Beauclerk  observed,  ''Then, 
to  be  sure,  Spence  turned  round  and  wrote  that  down  "; 
and  went  on  to  say  to  Dr.  Johnson,  ''Pope,  sir,  would 
have  said  the  same  of  you  if  he  had  seen  you  distilling." 
Johnson  :  "  Sir,  if  Pope  had  told  me  of  my  distilling, 
I  would  have  told  him  of  his  grotto." ' 

'  He  would  allow  no  settled  indulgence  of  idleness 
upon  principle,  and  always  repelled  every  attempt  to 
urge  excuses  for  it.  A  friend  one  day  suggested  that 
it  was  not  wholesome  to  study  soon  after  dinner.  John- 
son: "Ah,  sir,  don't  give  way  to  such  a  fancy.  At 
one  time  of  my  life  I  had  taken  it  into  my  head  that 
it  was  not  wholesome  to  study  between  breakfast  and 
dinner." ' 

'Mr.  Beauclerk  one  day  repeated  to  Dr.  Johnson 
Pope's  lines, 

•     "  Let  modest  Foster,  if  he  will,  excel 
Ten  metropolitans  in  preaching  well " : 


iET.  7i]    LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON         149 

then  asked  the  Doctor,  ''Why  did  Pope  say  this?" 
Johnson  :  "  Sir,  he  hoped  it  would  vex  somebody."' 

'Dr.  Goldsmith,  upon  occasion  of  Mrs.  Lennox's 
bringing  out  a  play,^  said  to  Dr.  Johnson  at  the  Club 
that  a  person  had  advised  him  to  go  and  hiss  it, 
because  she  had  attacked  Shakespeare  in  her  book 
called  Shakespeare  Illustrated.  Johnson  :  "  And  did 
not  you  tell  him  that  he  was  a  rascal  .'* "  Goldsmith  : 
"No,  sir,  I  did  not.  Perhaps  he  did  not  mean  what 
he  said."  Johnson:  "Nay,  sir,  if  he  lied,  it  is  a 
different  thing."  Colman  slily  said  (but  it  is  believed 
Dr.  Johnson  did  not  hear  him),  "Then  the  proper 
expression  should  have  been — Sir,  if  you  don't  lie, 
you  are  a  rascaL" ' 

*  His  affection  for  Topham  Beauclerk  was  so  great, 
that  when  Beauclerk  was  labouring  under  that  severe 
illness  which  at  last  occasioned  his  death,  Johnson 
said  (with  a  voice  faltering  with  emotion),  "Sir,  I 
would  walk  to  the  extent  of  the  diameter  of  the  earth 
to  save  Beauclerk. "  ' 

'  One  night  at  the  Club  he  produced  a  translation 
of  an  epitaph  which  Lord  Elibank  had  written  in 
English  for  his  lady,  and  requested  of  Johnson  to  turn 
it  into  Latin  for  him.  Having  read  Domina  de  North 
et  Gray,  he  said  to  Dyer,  "You  see,  sir,  what  bar- 
barism we  are  compelled  to  make  use  of  when  modern 
titles  are  to  be  specifically  mentioned  in  Latin  in- 
scriptions." When  he  had  read  it  once  aloud,  and 
there  had  been  a  general  approbation  expressed  by 

1  [Probably  The  Sisters,  a  comedy  performed  one  night  only  at 
Covent  Garden  in  1769.  Dr.  Goldsmith  wrote  ^n  excellent  epilogue  to 
it.  Mrs.  Lennox,  whose  maiden  name  was  Ramsay,  died  in  London 
in  distressed  circumstances,  in  her  eighty-fourth  year,  January  4, 
1804.— M.] 


150  LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON        [1780 

the  company,  he  addressed  himself  to  Mr.  Dyer  in 
particular,  and  said,  ''Sir,  I  beg  to  have  your  judg- 
ment, for  I  know  your  nicety."  Dyer  then  very 
properly  desired  to  read  it  over  again  ;  which  having 
done,  he  pointed  out  an  incongruity  in  one  of  the 
sentences.  Johnson  immediately  assented  to  the 
observation,  and  said,  ''Sir,  this  is  owing  to  an 
alteration  of  a  part  of  the  sentence  from  the  form 
in  which  I  had  first  written  it ;  and  I  believe,  sir, 
you  may  have  remarked,  that  the  making  a  partial 
change,  without  a  due  regard  to  the  general  structure 
of  the  sentence,  is  a  very  frequent  cause  of  error  in 
composition." ' 

'Johnson  was  well  acquainted  with  Mr.  Dossie, 
author  of  a  treatise  on  agriculture ;  and  said  of  him, 
"Sir,  of  the  objects  which  the  Society  of  Arts  have 
chiefly  in  view — the  chemical  effects  of  bodies  operat- 
ing upon  other  bodies,  he  knows  more  than  almost  any 
man."  Johnson,  in  order  to  give  Mr.  Dossie  his  vote 
to  be  a  member  of  this  Society,  paid  up  an  arrear  which 
had  run  on  for  two  years.  On  this  occasion  he  men- 
tioned a  circumstance  as  characteristic  of  the  Scotch. 
"One  of  that  nation  (said  he),  who  had  been  a  can- 
didate, against  whom  I  had  voted,  came  up  to  me  with 
a  civil  salutation.  Now,  sir,  this  is  their  way.  An 
Englishman  would  have  stomached  it  and  been  sulky, 
and  never  have  taken  further  notice  of  you,  but  a 
Scotchman,  sir,  though  you  vote  nineteen  times 
against  him,  will  accost  you  with  equal  complais- 
ance after  each  time,  and  the  twentieth  time,  sir, 
he  will  get  your  vote. 

'Talking  on  the  subject  of  toleration  one  day  when 
some  friends  were  with  him  in  his  study,  he  made  bis 


VET.  7i]    LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON         161 

usual  remark,  that  the  State  has  a  right  to  regulate 
the  religion  of  the  people,  who  are  the  children  of  the 
State.  A  clergyman  having  readily  acquiesced  in  this, 
Johnson,  who  loved  discussion,  observed,  'But,  sir, 
you  must  go  round  to  other  states  than  our  own. 
You  do  not  know  what  a  Brahmin  has  to  say  for 
himself.^  In  short,  sir,  I  have  got  no  further  than 
this  :  every  man  has  a  right  to  utter  what  he  thinks 
truth,  and  every  other  man  has  a  right  to  knock  him 
down  for  it.     Martyrdom  is  the  test. 

'  A  man,  he  observed,  should  begin  to  write  soon ; 
for,  if  he  waits  till  his  judgment  is  matured,  his 
inability,  through  want  of  practice,  to  express  his 
conceptions  will  make  the  disproportion  so  great 
between  what  he  sees  and  what  he  can  attain,  that 
he  will  probably  be  discouraged  from  writing  at  all. 
As  a  proof  of  the  justness  of  this  remark,  we  may 
instance  what  is  related  of  the  great  Lord  Granville ;  * 
that  after  he  had  written  his  letter  giving  an  account 
of  the  battle  of  Dettingen,  he  said,  **  Here  is  a  letter, 
expressed  in  terms  not  good  enough  for  a  tallow- 
chandler  to  have  used." ' 

'Talking  of  a  court-martial  that  was  sitting  upon  a 
very  momentous  public  occasion,  he  expressed  much 
doubt  of  an  enlightened  decision ;  and  said  that  per- 
haps there  was  not  a  member  of  it  who  in  the  whole 
course  of  his  life  had  ever  spent  an  hour  by  himself  in 
balancing  probabilities.' 


1  Here  Lord  Macartney  remarks,  'A  Brahmin  or  any  caste  of  the 
Hindus  will  neither  admit  you  to  be  of  their  religion  nor  be  converted 
to  yours — a  thing  which  struck  the  Portuguese  with  the  greatest 
astonishment  when  they  first  discovered  the  Kast  Indies.' 

2  [John,  Lord  Carteret,  and  the  first  Earl  Granville,  who  died  Janu- 
ary 2,  1763. — M.] 


162         LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1780 

'  Goldsmith  one  day  brought  to  the  Club  a  printed 
ode,  which  he,  with  others,  had  been  hearing  read  by 
its  author  in  a  public  room,  at  the  rate  of  five  shillings 
each  for  admission.  One  of  the  company  having 
read  it  aloud.  Dr.  Johnson  said,  ''Bolder  words  and 
more  timorous  meaning,  I  think,  never  were  brought 
together."' 

*  Talking  of  Gray's  Odes,  he  said,  "  They  are  forced 
plants,  raised  in  a  hotbed  :  and  they  are  poor  plants : 
they  are  but  cucumbers  after  all."  A  gentleman 
present,  who  had  been  running  down  ode-writing  in 
general  as  a  bad  species  of  poetry,  unluckily  said, 
"  Had  they  been  literally  cucumbers,  they  had  been 
better  things  than  odes."  "Yes,  sir  (said  Johnson), 
for  a  hog."' 

'  His  distinction  of  the  different  degrees  of  attain- 
ment of  learning  was  thus  marked  upon  two  occasions. 
Of  Queen  Elizabeth  he  said,  ''She  had  learning  enough 
to  have  given  dignity  to  a  bishop" ;  and  of  Mr.  Thomas 
Davies  he  said,  "  Sir,  Davies  has  learning  enough  to 
give  credit  to  a  clergyman."  ' 

'  He  used  to  quote,  with  great  warmth,  the  saying 
of  Aristotle  recorded  by  Diogenes  Laertius,  "that 
there  was  the  same  difference  between  one  learned 
and  unlearned  as  between  the  living  and  the 
dead."' 

'It  is  very  remarkable  that  he  retained  in  his 
memory  very  slight  and  trivial  as  well  as  important 
things.  As  an  instance  of  this,  it  seems  that  an 
inferior  domestic  of  the  Duke  of  Leeds  had  attempted 
to  celebrate  his  Grace's  marriage  in  such  homely 
rhymes  as  he  could  make :  and  this  curious  com- 
position having  been  sung  to  Dr.  Johnson,  he  got 


MT.71]     LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON         163 

it  by  heart,  and  used  to  repeat  it  in  a  very  pleasant 
manner.     Two  of  the  stanzas  were  these  : 

"When  the  Duke  of  Leeds  shall  married  be 
To  a  fine  young  lady  of  high  quahty, 
How  happy  will  that  gentlewoman  be 
In  his  Grace  of  Leeds's  good  company. 

She  shall  have  all  that 's  fine  and  fair, 
And  the  best  of  silk  and  satin  shall  wear ; 
And  ride  in  a  coach  to  take  the  air, 
And  have  a  house  in  St.  James's  Square."  ^ 

To  hear  a  man,  of  the  weight  and  dignity  of  Johnson, 
repeating  such  humble  attempts  at  poetry  had  a  very 
amusing  effect.  He,  however,  seriously  observed  of 
the  last  stanza  repeated  by  him,  that  it  nearly  com- 
prised all  the  advantages  that  wealth  can  give.' 

'An  eminent  foreigner,  when  he  was  shown  the 
British  Museum,  was  very  troublesome  with  many 
absurd  inquiries.  "  Now  there,  sir  (said  he),  is  the 
difference  between  an  Englishman  and  a  Frenchman. 
A  Frenchman  must  be  always  talking,  whether  he 


1  The  correspondent  of  the  Gentleman's  Magazine  who  subscribes 
himself  Sciolus  furnishes  the  following  supplement : — 

'  A  lady  of  my  acquaintance  remembers  to  have  heard  her  uncle  sing 
those  homely  stanzas  more  than  forty-five  years  ago.  He  repeated  the 
second  thus : 

"  She  shall  breed  young  lords  and  ladies  fair, 
And  ride  abroad  in  a  coach  and  three  pair. 
And  the  best,  etc. 
And  have  a  house,  etc." 

and  remembered  a  third,  which  seems  to  have  been  the  introductory 
one,  and  is  believed  to  have  been  the  only  remaining  one  : 

"  When  the  Duke  of  Leeds  shall  have  made  his  choice 
Of  a  charming  young  lady  that 's  beautiful  and  wise, 
She  '11  be  the  happiest  young  gentlewoman  under  the  skies, 
As  long  as  the  sun  and  moon  shall  rise  ; 
And  how  happy  shall,  etc." ' 

It  is  with  pleasure  I  add,  that  this  stanza  could  never  be  more  truly 
applied  than  at  this  present  time  [1792]. 


154  LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON        [1780 

knows  anything  of  the  matter  or  not ;  an  Englishman 
is  content  to  say  nothing  when  he  has  nothing  to 
say.'" 

'His  unjust  contempt  for  foreigners  was,  indeed, 
extreme.  One  evening,  at  Old  Slaughter's  coffee- 
house, when  a  number  of  them  were  talking  loud 
about  little  matters,  he  said,  "  Does  not  this  confirm 
old  Meynell's  observation.  For  anything  I  see,  foreigners 
are  fools  !  " ' 

'He  said  that  once,  when  he  had  a  violent  tooth- 
ache, a  Frenchman  accosted  him  thus  :  "  Ah,  Monsieur, 
vous  dtudiez  trop. " ' 

'Having  spent  an  evening  at  Mr.  Langton's  with 
the  Reverend  Dr.  Parr,  he  was  much  pleased  with 
the  conversation  of  that  learned  gentleman ;  and, 
after  he  was  gone,  said  to  Mr.  Langton,  "  Sir,  I  am 
obliged  to  you  for  having  asked  me  this  evening. 
Parr  is  a  fair  man.  ^  I  do  not  know  when  I  have  had 
an  occasion  of  such  free  controversy.  It  is  remark- 
able how  much  of  a  man's  life  may  pass  without 
meeting  with  any  instance  of  this  kind  of  open  dis- 
cussion.'" 

'  We  may  fairly  institute  a  criticism  between  Shake- 
speare and  Corneille,  as  they  both  had,  though  in  a 
different  degree,  the  lights  of  a  latter  age.  It  is  not 
BO  just  between  the  Greek  dramatic  writers  and  Shake- 
speare. It  may  be  replied  to  what  is  said  by  one  of 
the  remarkers  on  Shakespeare,  that  though  Darius's 
shade  had  prescience,  it  does  not  necessarily  follow 
that  he  had  all  past  particulars  revealed  to  him,' 


1  [When  the  Corporation  of  Norwich  applied  to  Johnson  to  point 
out  to  them  a  proper  master  for  their  grammar-school,  he  recommended 
Dr.  Parr,  on  his  ceasing  to  be  usher  to  Sumner  at  Harrow. — B.] 


JET.yi]    LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON         155 

'  Spanish  plays,  being  wildly  and  improbably  farci- 
cal, would  please  children  here,  as  children  are  enter- 
tained with  stories  full  of  prodigies ;  their  experience 
not  being  sufficient  to  cause  them  to  be  so  readily 
startled  at  deviations  from  the  natural  course  of  life. 
The  machinery  of  the  Pagans  is  uninteresting  to  us : 
when  a  goddess  appears  in  Homer  or  Virgil  we  grow 
weary;  still  more  so  in  the  Grecian  tragedies,  as 
in  that  kind  of  composition  a  nearer  approach  to 
Nature  is  intended.  Yet  there  are  good  reasons  for 
reading  romances  ;  as — the  fertility  of  invention,  the 
beauty  of  style  and  expression,  the  curiosity  of  seeing 
with  what  kind  of  performances  the  age  and  country 
in  which  they  were  written  was  delighted  :  for  it  is  to 
be  apprehended,  that  at  the  time  when  very  wild  im- 
probable tales  were  well  received,  the  people  were  in 
a  barbarous  state,  and  so  on  the  footing  of  children, 
as  has  been  explained.' 

'  It  is  evident  enough  that  no  one  who  writes  now 
can  use  the  Pagan  deities  and  mythology ;  the  only 
machinery,  therefore,  seems  that  of  ministering 
spirits,  the  ghosts  of  the  departed,  witches,  and  fairies, 
though  these  latter,  as  the  vulgar  superstition  con- 
cerning them  (which,  while  in  its  force,  infected  at 
least  the  imagination  of  those  that  had  more  advan- 
tage in  education,  though  their  reason  set  them  free 
from  it)  is  every  day  wearing  out,  seem  likely  to  be 
of  little  further  assistance  in  the  machinery  of  poetry. 
As  I  recollect,  Hammond  introduces  a  hag  or  witch 
into  one  of  his  love  elegies,  where  the  effect  is  un- 
meaning and  disgusting.' 

'The  man  who  uses  his  talent  of  ridicule  in  creating 
or  grossly  exaggerating  the  instances  he  gives,  who 


166  LIFE    OF    DR,    JOHNSON        [1780 

imputes  absurdities  that  did  not  happen,  or,  when  a 
man  was  a  little  ridiculous,  describes  him  as  having 
been  very  much  so,  abuses  his  talents  greatly.  The 
great  use  of  delineating  absurdities  is  that  we  may 
know  how  far  human  folly  can  go ;  the  account,  there- 
fore, ought  of  absolute  necessity  to  be  faithful.  A 
certain  character  (naming  the  person),  as  to  the 
general  cast  of  it,  is  well  described  by  Garrick,  but  a 
great  deal  of  the  phraseology  he  uses  in  it  is  quite 
his  own,  particularly  in  the  proverbial  comparisons, 
"obstinate  as  a  pig,"  etc.,  but  I  don't  know  whether 

it  might  not  be  true  of  Lord  ,  that  from  a  too 

great  eagerness  of  praise  and  popularity,  and  a 
politeness  carried  to  a  ridiculous  excess,  he  was  likely, 
after  asserting  a  thing  in  general,  to  give  it  up  again 
in  parts.  For  instance,  if  he  had  said  Reynolds  was 
the  first  of  painters,  he  was  capable  enough  of  giving 
up,  as  objections  might  happen  to  be  severally  made, 
first,  his  outline, — then  the  grace  in  form, — then  the 
colouring, — and  lastly,  to  have  owned  that  he  was 
such  a  mannerist,  that  the  disposition  of  his  pictures 
was  all  alike.' 

*  For  hospitality,  as  formerly  practised,  there  is  no 
longer  the  same  reason ;  heretofore  the  poorer  people 
were  more  numerous,  and  for  want  of  commerce  their 
means  of  getting  a  livelihood  more  difficult ;  there- 
fore the  supporting  them  was  an  act  of  great  bene- 
volence ;  now  that  the  poor  can  find  maintenance  for 
themselves,  and  their  labour  is  wanted,  a  general 
undiscerning  hospitality  tends  to  ill,  by  withdrawing 
them  from  their  work  to  idleness  and  drunkenness. 
Then,  formerly  rents  were  received  in  kind,  so  that 
there  was  a  great  abundance  of  provisions  in  pos- 


MT.71]     LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  157 

session  of  the  owners  of  the  lands^  which,  since  the 
plenty  of  money  afforded  by  commerce,  is  no  longer 
the  case.' 

'  Hospitality  to  strangers  and  foreigners  in  our 
country  is  now  almost  at  an  end,  since,  from  the 
increase  of  them  that  come  to  us,  there  have  been  a 
sufficient  number  of  people  that  have  found  an  interest 
in  providing  inns  and  proper  accommodations,  which 
is  in  general  a  more  expedient  method  for  the  enter- 
tainment of  travellers.  Where  the  travellers  and 
strangers  are  few,  more  of  that  hospitality  subsists,  as 
it  has  not  been  worth  while  to  provide  places  of  ac- 
commodation. In  Ireland  there  is  still  hospitality  to 
strangers  in  some  degree ;  in  Hungary  and  Poland 
probably  more. ' 

'  Colman,  in  a  note  on  his  translation  of  Terence, 
talking  of  Shakespeare's  learning,  asks,  "  What  says 
Farmer  to  this  ?  What  says  Johnson  ? "  Upon  this 
he  observed,  '*Sir,  let  Farmer  answer  for  himself; 
/  never  engaged  in  this  controversy.  I  always  said, 
Shakespeare  had  Latin  enough  to  grammaticise  his 
English." ' 

'  A  clergyman,  whom  he  characterised  as  one  who 
loved  to  say  little  oddities,  was  affecting  one  day, 
at  a  bishop's  table,  a  sort  of  slyness  and  freedom 
not  in  character,  and  repeated,  as  if  part  of  The 
Old  Man's  Wish,  a  song  by  Dr.  Walter  Pope,  a  verse 
bordering  on  licentiousness.  Johnson  rebuked  him 
in  the  finest  manner,  by  first  showing  that  he  did 
not  know  the  passage  he  was  aiming  at,  and  thus 
humbling  him  :  "  Sir,  that  is  not  the  song :  it  is 
thus."  And  he  gave  it  right.  Then  looking  stead- 
fastly on  him,  "Sir,  there  is  a  part  of  that  song 


168  LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON        [1780 

which    I    should    wish    to    exemplify    in     my    own 
life: 

'  May  I  govern  my  passions  with  absolute  sway  ! " '^ 

'  Being  asked  if  Barnes  knew  a  good  deal  of  Greek, 
he  answered,  "  I  doubt,  sir,  he  was  unoculus  inter 

OCBCOi."' 

'  He  used  frequently  to  observe  that  men  might  be 
very  eminent  in  a  profession  without  our  perceiving 
any  particular  power  of  mind  in  them  in  conversation. 
"  It  seems  strange  (said  he)  that  a  man  should  see  so 
far  to  the  right,  who  sees  so  short  a  way  to  the  left. 
Burke  is  the  only  man  whose  common  conversation 
corresponds  with  the  general  fame  which  he  has  in 
the  world.  Take  up  whatever  topic  you  please,  he  is 
ready  to  meet  you." ' 

'  A  gentleman,  by  no  means  deficient  in  literature, 
having  discovered  less  acquaintance  with  one  of  the 
classics  than  Johnson  expected,  when  the  gentleman 
left  the  room,  he  observed,  "  You  see,  now,  how  little 
anybody  reads."  Mr.  Laugton  happening  to  mention 
his  having  read  a  good  deal  in  Clenardus's  Greek 
Grammar,  "  Why,  sir  (said  he),  who  is  there  in  this 
town  who  knows  anything  of  Clenardus  but  you  and 
I.-""  And  upon  Mr.  Langton's  mentioning  that  he 
had  taken  the  pains  to  learn  by  heart  the  Epistle  of 
St.  Basil,  which  is  given  in  that  Grammar  as  a  praxis, 
"  Sir  (said  he),  I  never  made  such  an  effort  to  attain 
Greek."' 

*  Of  Dodsley's  Public  Virtue,  a  poem,  he  said,  ''  It 


1  '  May  I  govern  my  passions  with  an  absolute  sway, 
And  grow  wiser  and  better  as  my  strength  wears  away 
Without  gout  or  stone  by  a  gentle  decay.' 


iET.  7i]     LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON  159 

was  fine  blank  (meaning  to  express  his  usual  contempt 
for  blank  verse) :  however,  this  miserable  poem  did 
not  sell,  and  my  poor  friend  Doddy  said,  "  Public 
virtue  was  not  a  subject  to  interest  the  age.'" 

*  Mr.  Langton,  when  a  very  young  man,  read 
Dodsley's  Cleone,  a  tragedy,  to  him,  not  aware  of  his 
extreme  impatience  to  be  read  to.  As  it  went  on 
he  turned  his  face  to  the  back  of  his  chair,  and  put 
himself  into  various  attitudes,  which  marked  his  un- 
easiness. At  the  end  of  an  act,  however,  he  said, 
**Come,  let's  have  some  more,  let's  go  into  the 
slaughter-house  again.  Lanky.  But  I  am  afraid 
there  is  more  blood  than  brains."  Yet  he  afterwards 
said,  "When  I  heard  you  read  it  I  thought  higher 
of  its  power  of  language;  when  I  read  it  myself,  I 
was  more  sensible  of  its  pathetic  effect " ;  and  then  he 
paid  it  a  compliment  which  many  wUl  think  very 
extravagant.  "  Sir  (said  he),  if  Otway  had  written  this 
play,  no  other  of  his  pieces  would  have  been  remem- 
bered." Dodsley  himself,  upon  this  being  repeated 
to  him,  said,  "  It  was  too  much " ;  it  must  be  re- 
membered that  Johnson  always  appeared  not  to  be 
sufficiently  sensible  of  the  merit  of  Otway."  '  ^ 

*  "  Snatches  of  reading  (said  he)  will  not  make  a 
Bentley  or  a  Clarke.  They  are,  however,  in  a  certain 
degree  advantageous."  I  would  put  a  child  into  a 
library  (where  no  unfit  books  are)  and  let  him  read  at 
his  choice.  A  chUd  should  not  be  discouraged  from 
reading  anything  that  he  takes  a  liking  to,  from  a  notion 


1  [This  assertion  concerning  Johnson's  insensibility  to  the  pathetic 
powers  of  Otway,  is  too  round.  I  once  asked  him,  whether  he  did 
not  think  Otway  frequently  tender ;  when  he  answered,  '  Sir,  he  is  all 
tenderness.' — B.] 


160  LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON        [1780 

that  it  is  above  his  reach.  If  that  be  the  case,  the 
child  will  soon  find  it  out  and  desist ;  if  not,  he  of 
course  gains  the  instruction;  which  is  so  much  the 
more  likely  to  come,  from  the  inclination  with  which 
he  takes  up  the  study." ' 

'  Though  he  used  to  censure  carelessness  with  great 
vehemence,  he  owned  that  he  once,  to  avoid  the 
trouble  of  locking  up  five  guineas,  hid  them,  he  forgot 
where,  so  that  he  could  not  find  them. ' 

'A  gentleman  who  introduced  his  brother  to  Dr. 
Johnson,  was  earnest  to  recommend  him  to  the  Doctor's 
notice,  which  he  did  by  saying,  "  When  we  have  sat 
together  some  time,  you  '11  find  my  brother  grow  very 
entertaining."     "  Sir  (said  Johnson),  I  can  wait.'" 

'  When  the  rumour  was  strong  that  we  should  have 
a  war,  because  the  French  would  assist  the  Americans, 
he  rebuked  a  friend  with  some  asperity  for  supposing 
it,  saying,  "  No,  sir,  national  faith  is  not  yet  sunk  so 
low." ' 

'In  the  latter  part  of  his  life,  in  order  to  satisfy 
himself  whether  his  mental  faculties  were  impaired,  he 
resolved  that  he  would  try  to  learn  a  new  language, 
and  fixed  upon  the  Low  Dutch  for  that  purpose,  and 
this  he  continued  till  he  had  read  about  one  half  of 
Thomas  a  Kempis ;  and  finding  that  there  appeared  no 
abatement  of  his  power  of  acquisition,  he  then  desisted, 
as  thinking  the  experiment  had  been  duly  tried. 
Mr.  Burke  justly  observed  that  this  was  not  the  most 
vigorous  trial.  Low  Dutch  being  a  language  so  near 
to  our  own  ;  had  it  been  one  of  the  languages  entirely 
different,  he  might  have  been  very  soon  satisfied.' 

'  Mr.  Langton  and  he  having  gone  to  see  a  free- 
mason's   funeral    procession,    when    they    were    at 


JET.71]    LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON         161 

Rochester,  and  some  solemn  music  being  played  on 
French  horns,  he  said,  "  This  is  the  first  time  that 
I  have  ever  been  affected  by  musical  sound  "  ;  adding, 
"  that  the  impression  made  upon  him  was  of  a  melan- 
choly kind."  Mr.  Langton  saying  that  this  effect 
was  a  fine  one, — Johnson  :  **  Yes,  if  it  softens  the 
mind  so  as  to  prepare  it  for  the  reception  of  salutary 
feelings,  it  may  be  good  ;  but  inasmuch  as  it  is  melan- 
choly per  se,  it  is  bad."'^ 

'  Goldsmith  had  long  a  visionary  project,  that  some 
time  or  other,  when  his  circumstances  should  be  easier, 
he  would  go  to  Aleppo,  in  order  to  acquire  a  know- 
ledge, as  far  as  might  be,  of  any  arts  peculiar  to  the 
East,  and  introduce  them  into  Britain.  When  this 
was  talked  of  in  Dr.  Johnson's  company,  he  said, 
*'  Of  all  men  Goldsmith  is  the  most  unfit  to  go  out 
upon  such  an  inquiry ;  for  he  is  utterly  ignorant  of 
such  arts  as  we  already  possess,  and  consequently 
could  not  know  what  would  be  accessions  to  our 
present  stock  of  mechanical  knowledge.  Sir,  he 
would  bring  home  a  grinding-barrow,  which  you  see 
in  every  street  in  London,  and  think  he  had  furnished 
a  wonderful  improvement." ' 

*  Greek,  sir  (said  he),  is  like  lace ;  every  man  gets 
as  much  of  it  as  he  can.'  ^ 

'  When  Lord  Charles  Hay,  after  his  return  from 
America,  was  preparing  his  defence  to  be  offered  to 
the   court-martial  which   he  had   demanded,  having 


1  [The  French  horn,  however,  is  so  far  from  being  melancholy  ^r  «, 
that  when  the  strain  is  light,  and  in  the  field,  there  is  nothing  so  cheer- 
ful I  It  was  the  funeral  occasion,  and  probably  the  solemnity  of  the 
strain,  that  produced  the  plaintive  effect  here  mentioned. — B.l 

2  [It  should  be  remembered,  that  this  was  said  twenty-five  or  thirty 
years  ago,  when  lace  was  very  generally  worn. — M.] 


162  LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON        [1780 

heard  Mr,  Langton  as  high  in  expressions  of  admira- 
tion of  Johnson,  as  he  usually  was,  he  requested  that 
Dr.  Johnson  might  be  introduced  to  him ;  and  Mr. 
Langton  having  mentioned  it  to  Johnson,  he  very 
kindly  and  readily  agreed ;  and  being  presented  by 
Mr.  Langton  to  his  Lordship,  while  under  arrest,  he 
saw  him  several  times ;  upon  one  of  which  occasions 
Lord  Charles  read  to  him  what  he  had  prepared, 
which  Johnson  signified  his  approbation  of,  saying, 
"  It  is  a  very  good  soldierly  defence."  Johnson  said 
that  he  had  advised  his  Lordship,  that  as  it  was  in 
vain  to  contend  with  those  who  were  in  possession  of 
power,  if  they  would  offer  him  the  rank  of  Lieutenant- 
General,  and  a  government,  it  would  be  better  judged 
to  desist  from  urging  his  complaints.  It  is  well  known 
that  his  Lordship  died  before  the  sentence  was  made 
known.' 

'  Johnson  one  day  gave  high  praise  to  Dr.  Bentley'a 
verses^  in  Dodsley's  Collection,  which  he  recited  with 


1  Dr.  Johnson,  in  his  Liyi  of  Cowley,  says,  that  these  are  '  the  only 
English  verses  which  Bentley  is  known  to  have  written."  I  shall  here 
insert  them,  and  hope  my  readers  will  apply  them. 

'  Who  strives  to  mount  Parnassus'  hill 
And  thence  poetic  laurels  bring. 
Must  first  acquire  due  force  and  skill, 
Must  fly  with  swan's  or  eagle's  wing. 

Who  Nature's  treasures  would  explore, 

Her  mysteries  and  arcana  know  ; 
Must  high  as  lofty  Newton  soar. 

Must  stoop  as  delving  Woodward  low. 

Who  studies  ancient  laws  and  rites, 
Tongues,  arts,  and  arms,  and  history  ; 

Must  drudge,  like  Selden,  days  and  nights, 
And  in  the  endless  labour  die. 

Who  travels  in  religious  jars 
(Truth  mixt  with  error,  shades  with  rays), 

Like  Whitson,  wanting  pyx  or  stars. 
In  ocean  wide  or  sinks  or  strays. 


^T.  7i]     LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  163 

his  usual  energy.  Dr.  Adam  Smith,  who  was  present, 
observed  in  his  decisive  professorial  manner,  "Very 
^ell — ^very  well."  Johnson  however  added,  "Yes, 
they  are  very  well,  sir ;  but  you  may  observe  in  what 
manner  they  are  well.  They  are  the  forcible  verses 
of  a  man  of  a  strong  mind,  but  not  accustomed  to 
write  verse ;  for  there  is  some  uncouthness  in  the 
expression," '1 

'  Drinking  tea  one  day  at  Garrick's  with  Mr.  Lang- 
ton,  he  was  questioned  if  he  was  not  somewhat  of  a 


But  grant  our  hero's  hope,  long  toil 

And  comprehensive  genius  crown, 
All  sciences,  all  arts  his  spoil, 
•  Yet  what  reward,  or  what  renown? 

Envy,  innate  in  vulgar  souls, 

Envy  steps  in  and  stops  his  rise ; 
Envy  with  poison'd  tarnish  fouls 

His  lustre,  and  his  worth  decries. 

He  lives  inglorious  or  in  want. 

To  college  and  old  books  confined ; 
Instead  of  learn'd,  he 's  call'd  pedant. 

Dunces  advanced,  he  's  left  behind  : 
Yet  left  content,  a  genuine  Stoic  he. 

Great  without  patron,  rich  without  South  Sea.' 

[A  different  and  probably  more  accurate  copy  of  these  spirited  verses 
is  to  be  found  in  The  Grcve,  or  a  Collection  of  Original  Poems  and 
Translations,  etc.,  1721.  In  this  miscellany  the  last  stanza,  which  in 
Dodsley's  copy  is  unquestionably  uncouth,  is  thus  exhibited : 

'Inglorious  or  by  wants  inthralt d. 

To  college  and  old  books  confined, 
A  pedant  from  his  learning  calCd, 

Dunces  advanced,  he's  left  behind,' — J.  BoswBLL,  Junr.] 
1  The  difference  between  Johnson  and  Smith  is  apparent  even  in  this 
slight  instance.  Smith  was  a  man  of  extraordinary  application,  and 
had  his  mind  crowded  with  all  manner  of  subjects ;  but  the  force, 
acuteness,  and  vivacity  of  Johnson  were  not  to  be  found  there.  He 
had  book-making  so  much  in  his  thoughts,  and  was  so  chary  of  what 
might  be  turned  to  account  in  that  way,  that  he  once  said  to  Sir  Joshua 
Reynolds  that  he  made  it  a  rule  when  iri  company  never  to  talk  of  what 
he  understood.  Beauclerk  had,  for  a  short  time,  a  pretty  high  opinion 
of  Smith's  conversation.  Garrick,  after  listening  to  him  for  a  while,  as 
to  one  of  whom_  his  expectations  had  been  raised,  turned  slily  to  a 
friend,  and  whispered  to  him,  'What  say  you  to  this  ?— eh  ? /Ta^^, 
I  think.' 


164         LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON       [1780 

heretic  as  to  Shakespeare ;  said  Garrick,  "  I  doubt  he 
is  a  little  of  an  infidel."  ''Sir  (said  Johnson),  I  will 
stand  by  the  lines  I  have  written  on  Shakespeare  in 
my  Prologue  at  the  opening  of  your  Theatre."  Mr. 
Langton  suggested  that  in  the  line 

"  And  panting  Time  toil'd  after  him  in  vain  " ; 

Johnson  might  have  had  in  his  eye  the  passage  in  the 
Tempest,  where  Prospero  says  of  Miranda, 

" She  will  outstrip  aU  praise, 

And  make  it  halt  behind  her." 

Johnson  said  nothing.  Garrick  then  ventured  to 
observe,  "I  do  not  think  that  the  happiest  line  in  the 
praise  of  Shakespeare."  Johnson  exclaimed  (smiling), 
'*  Prosaical  rogues  !  next  time  I  write,  I  '11  make  both 
time  and  space  pant. "  '  ^ 

'It  is. well  known  that  there  was  formerly  a  rude 
custom  for  those  who  were  sailing  upon  the  Thames, 
to  accost  each  other  as  they  passed,  in  the  most  abusive 
language  they  could  invent ;  generally,  however,  with 
as  much  satirical  humour  as  they  were  capable  of 
producing.     Addison  gives  a  specimen  of  this  ribaldry 


1  I  am  sorry  to  see  in  the  Transactions  of  the  Royal  Society  of 
Edinburgh,  vol.  ii.  '  An  Essay  on  the  Character  of  Hamlet,'  written, 
I  should  suppose,  by  a  very  young  man,  though  called  '  Reverend ' ; 
who  speaks  with  presumptuous  petulance  of  the  first  literary  character  of 
his  age.  Amidst  a  cloudy  confusion  of  words  (which  hath  of  late  too 
often  passed  in  Scotland  for  Metaphysics),  he  thus  ventures  to  criticise 
one  of  the  noblest  lines  in  our  language: — Dr.  Johnson  has  remarked 
that  '  time  toiled  after  him  in  vain.  But  I  should  apprehend  that  this 
is  entirely  to  mistake  the  character.  Time  toils  after  etiery  great  man, 
as  well  as  after  Shakespeare.  The  workings  of  an  ordinary  mind  keej^ 
pace,  indeed  with  time  ;  they  move  no  faster ;  they  have  their  beginning, 
their  middle,  and  their  end;  and  superior  natures  can  reduce  these 
into  a  point.  They  do  not,  indeed,  suppress  them  ;  but  they  suspend, 
they  lock  them  up  in  the  breast.'  The  learned  society,  under  whose 
sanction  such  gabble  is  ushered  into  the  world,  would  do  well  to  offer 
a  premium  to  any  one  who  will  discover  its  meaning. 


iET.  71]    LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON  165 

in  Number  383  of  The  Spectator,  when  Sir  Roger  de 
Coverley  and  he  are  going  to  Spring  Garden.  Johnson 
was  once  eminently  successful  in  this  species  of  con- 
test ;  a  fellow  having  attacked  him  with  some  coarse 
raillery,  Johnson  answered  him  thus,  "  Sir,  your  wife, 
under  pretence  of  keeping  a  bawdy-house,  is  a  receiver 
of  stolen  goods."  One  evening  when  he  and  Mr. 
Burke  and  Mr.  Langton  were  in  company  together, 
and  the  admirable  scolding  of  Timon  of  Athens  was 
mentioned,  this  instance  of  Johnson's  was  quoted, 
and  thought  to  have  at  least  equal  excellence.* 

'As  Johnson  always  allowed  the  extraordinary 
talents  of  Mr.  Burke,  so  Mr.  Burke  was  fully  sensible 
of  the  wonderful  powers  of  Johnson.  Mr.  Langton 
recollects  having  passed  an  evening  with  both  of  them, 
when  Mr.  Burke  repeatedly  entered  upon  topics  which 
it  was  evident  he  would  have  illustrated  with  extensive 
knowledge  and  richness  of  expression ;  but  Johnson 
always  seized  upon  the  conversation,  in  which,  how- 
ever, he  acquitted  himself  in  a  most  masterly  manner. 
As  Mr,  Burke  and  Mr.  Langton  were  walking  home, 
Mr.  Burke  observed  that  Johnson  had  been  very  great 
that  night ;  Mr.  Langton  joined  in  this,  but  added,  he 
could  have  wished  to  hear  more  from  another  person 
(plainly  intimating  that  he  meant  Mr.  Burke) ;  "  O, 
no  (said  Mr.  Burke),  it  is  enough  for  me  to  have  rung 
the  bell  to  him." ' 

'  Beauclerk  having  observed  to  him  of  one  of  their 
friends,  that  he  was  awkward  at  counting  money, 
"  Why,  sir,  said  Johnson,  I  am  likewise  awkward  at 
counting  money.  But  then,  sir,  the  reason  is  plain ; 
I  have  had  very  little  money  to  count."' 

'  He  had  an  abhorrence  of  affectation.     Talking  of 


166         LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON       [1780 

old  Mr.  Langton,  of  whom  he  said,  ''Sir,  you  will 
seldom  see  such  a  gentleman,  such  are  his  stores  of 
literature,  such  his  knowledge  in  divinity,  and  such 
his  exemplary  life  " ;  he  added,  "  and  sir,  he  has  no 
grimace,  no  gesticulation,  no  burst  of  admiration  on 
trivial  occasions ;  he  never  embraces  you  with  an 
overacted  cordiality.'" 

'Being  in  company  with  a  gentleman  who  thought 
fit  to  maintain  Dr.  Berkeley's  ingenious  philosophy, 
that  nothing  exists  but  as  perceived  by  some  mind  ; 
when  the  gentleman  was  going  away,  Johnson  said  to 
him,  "  Pray,  sir,  don't  leave  us ;  for  we  may,  per- 
haps, forget  to  think  of  you,  and  then  you  will  cease 
to  exist." ' 

'Goldsmith  upon  being  visited  by  Johnson  one  day 
in  the  Temple,  said  to  him  with  a  little  jealousy  of  the 
appearance  of  his  accommodation,  "  I  shall  soon  be  in 
better  chambers  than  these."  Johnson  at  the  same 
time  checked  him  and  paid  him  a  handsome  compli- 
ment, implying  that  a  man  of  his  talent  should  be 
above  attention  to  such  distinctions.  "  Nay,  sir,  never 
mind  that.     Nil  te  qucesiveris  extra." ' 

'  At  the  time  when  his  pension  was  granted  to  him, 
he  said,  with  a  noble  literary  ambition,  "Had  this 
happened  twenty  years  ago,  I  should  have  gone  to 
Constantinople  to  learn  Arabic,  as  Pococke  did.'" 

'  As  an  instance  of  the  niceness  of  his  taste,  though 
he  praised  West's  translation  of  Pindar,  he  pointed 
out  the  following  passages  as  faulty,  by  expressing  a 
circumstance  so  minute  as  to  detract  from  the  general 
dignity  which  should  prevail : 

"Down,  then,  from  thy  glittering  nail. 
Take,  O  muse,  thy  Dorian  lyre.'" 


MT.yil    LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON         167 

'When  Mr.  Vesey^  was  proposed  as  a  member  of 
the  Literary  Club,  Mr.  Burke  began  by  saying  that 
he  was  a  man  of  gentle  manners.  "  Sir,"  said  John- 
son, "  you  need  say  no  more.  When  you  have  said 
a  man  of  gentle  manners,  you  have  said  enough.'" 

"The  late  Mr.  Fitzherbert  told  Mr.  Langton  that 
Joluison  said  to  him,  "  Sir,  a  man  has  no  more  right 
to  say  an  uncivil  thing  than  to  act  one ;  no  more 
right  to  say  a  rude  thing  to  another  than  to  knock 
him  down."' 

' "  My  dear  friend  Dr.  Bathurst  (said  he,  with  a 
warmth  of  approbation),  declared,  he  was  glad  that 
his  father,  who  was  a  West-Indian  planter,  had  left 
his  affairs  in  total  ruin,  because,  having  no  estate,  he 
was  not  under  the  temptation  of  having  slaves." ' 

'Richardson  had  little  conversation,  except  about 
his  own  works,  of  which.  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  said, 
he  was  always  willing  to  talk,  and  glad  to  have  them 
introduced.  Johnson,  when  he  carried  Mr.  Langton 
to  see  him,  professed  that  he  could  bring  him  out 
into  conversation,  and  used  this  illusive  expression, 
"Sir,  I  can  make  him  rear."  But  he  failed;  for  in 
that  interview  Richardson  said  little  else  than  that 
there  lay  in  the  room  a  translation  of  his  Clarissa  into 
German,'"* 


1  [The  Right  Honourable  Agmondesham  _  Vesey  was  elected  a 
member  of  the  Literary  Club  in  1773,  and  died  in  1784. — M.] 

2  A  literary  lady  has  favoured  me  with  a  characteristic  anecdote  of 
Richardson.  One  day  at  his  country  house  at  Northend,  where  a  large 
company  was  assembled  at  dinner,  a  gentleman  who  was  just  returned 
from  Paris,  willing  to  please  Mr.  Richardson,  mentioned  to  him  a  very 
flattering  circumstance, — that  he  had  seen  his  Clarissa  lying  on  the 
king's  brother's  table.  Richardson,  observing  that  part  of  the  company 
were  engaged  in  talking  to  each  other,  affected  then  not  to  attend  to 
it.  But  by  and  by,  when  there  was  a  general  silence,  and  he  thought 
that  the  flattery  might  be  fully  beard,  he  addressed  himself  to  the 
gentleman,    '  I  think,  sir,   you  were  saying  something  about  ,' 


168  LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1780 

'Once  when  somebody  produced  a  newspaper  in 
which  there  was  a  letter  of  stupid  abuse  of  Sir  Joshua 
Reynolds,  of  which  Johnson  himself  came  in  for  a 
share, — "Pray  (said  he),  let  us  have  it  read  aloud 
from  beginning  to  end  "  ;  which  being  done,  he  with 
a  ludicrous  earnestness,  and  not  directing  his  look  to 
any  particular  person,  called  out,  ''Are  we  alive  after 
all  this  satire  ?  " ' 

'He  had  a  strong  prejudice  against  the  political 
character  of  Seeker,  one  instance  of  which  appeared 
at  Oxford,  where  he  expressed  great  dissatisfaction  at 
his  varying  the  old  established  toast,  "Church  and 
King."  "The  Archbishop  of  Canterbury,"  said  he 
(with  an  affected,  smooth,  smiling  grimace),  "  drinks. 
Constitution  in  Church  and  State."  Being  asked 
what  difference  there  was  between  the  two  toasts, 
he  said,  "  Why,  sir,  you  may  be  sure  he  meant  some- 
thing." Yet  when  the  life  of  that  prelate,  prefixed 
to  his  sermons  by  Dr.  Porteus  and  Dr.  Stinton,  his 
chaplains,  first  came  out,  he  read  it  with  the  utmost 
avidity,  and  said,  "  It  is  a  life  well  written,  and  that 
well  deserves  to  be  recorded."' 

'  Of  a  certain  noble  Lord,  he  said,  "  Respect  him 
you  could  not ;  for  he  had  no  mind  of  his  own.  Love 
him  you  could  not ;  for  that  which  you  could  do  with 
him,  every  one  else  could." ' 

'Of  Dr.  Goldsmith  he  said,  "No  man  was  more 
foolish  when  he  had  not  a  pen  in  his  hand,  or  more 
wise  when  he  had." ' 


pausing  in  a  high  flutter  of  expectation.  The  gentleman,  provoked  at 
his  inordinate  vanity,  resolved  not  to  indulge  it,  and  with  an  exquisitely 
sly  air  of  indifference  answered,  'A  mere  trifle,  sir,  not  worth  repeat- 
ing.' The  mortification  of  Richardson  was  visible,  and  he  did  not 
speak  ten  words  more  the  whole  day.  Dr.  Johnson  was  present,  and 
appeared  to  enjoy  it  much.  "" 


JET.  7i]    LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON         169 

'  He  told,  in  his  lively  manner,  the  following  literary 
anecdote :  "  Green  and  Guthrie,  an  Irishman  and  a 
Scotchman,  undertook  a  translation  of  Duhalde's 
History  of  China.  Green  said  of  Guthrie,  that  he 
knew  no  English,  and  Guthrie  of  Green,  that  he  knew 
no  French;  and  these  two  undertook  to  translate 
Duhalde's  History  of  China.  In  this  translation  there 
was  found  '  the  twenty-sixth  day  of  the  new  moon.* 
Now,  as  the  whole  age  of  the  moon  is  but  twenty- 
eight  days,  the  moon  instead  of  being  new,  was  nearly 
as  old  as  it  could  be.  The  blunder  arose  from  their 
mistaking  the  word  neuvieme  (ninth)  for  nouvelle  or 
neuve  (new).'" 

*  Talking  of  Dr.  Blagden's  copiousness  and  precision 
of  communication.  Dr.  Johnson  said,  "  Blagden,  sir, 
is  a  delightful  fellow."' 

*  On  occasion  of  Dr.  Johnson's  publishing  his 
pamphlet  of  The  False  Alarm,  there  came  out  a  very 
angry  answer  (by  many  supposed  to  be  by  Mr.  WUkes). 
Dr.  Johnson  determined  on  not  answering  it ;  but,  in 
conversation  with  Mr.  Langton,  mentioned  a  particular 
or  two,  which  if  he  had  replied  to  it,  he  might  perhaps 
have  inserted.  In  the  answerer's  pamphlet,  it  had 
been  said  with  solemnity,  **Do  you  consider,  sir,  that 
a  House  of  Commons  is  to  the  people  as  a  creature 
is  to  its  Creator?"  ''To  this  question,"  said  Dr. 
Johnson,  "1  could  have  replied,  that,  in  the  first 
place,  the  idea  of  a  Creator  must  be  such  as  that  he 
has  a  power  to  unmake  or  annihilate  his  creature. 
Then,  it  cannot  be  conceived  that  a  creature  can 
make  laws  for  its  Creator." '  ^ 


1  His  profound  adoration  of  the  '  Great  First  Cause '  was  such  as 
to  set  him  above  that '  philosophy  and  vain  deceit,'  with  which  men  of 


170  LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1780 

' "  Depend  upon  it,"  said  he^  "  that  if  a  man  talks 
of  his  misfortunes,  there  is  something  in  them  that  is 
not  disagreeable  to  him ;  for  where  there  is  nothing 
but  pure  misery,  there  never  is  any  recourse  to  the 
mention  of  it."* 

'  A  man  must  be  a  poor  beast,  that  should  read  no 
more  in  quantity  than  he  could  utter  aloud.' 

'  Imlac  in  Rasselas,  I  spelt  with  a  c  at  the  end, 
because  it  is  less  like  English,  which  should  always 
have  the  Saxon  k  added  to  the  c'  '■ 

'  Many  a  man  is  mad  in  certain  instances,  and  goes 
through  life  without  having  it  perceived  : — for  ex- 
ample, a  madness  has  seized  a  person  of  supposing 
himself  obliged  literally  to  pray  continually ;  had  the 
madness  turned  the  opposite  way,  and  the  person 
thought  it  a  crime  ever  to  pray,  it  might  not  impro- 
bably have  continued  unobserved.' 

'  He  apprehended  that  the  delineation  of  characters 
in  the  end  of  the  first  Book  of  the  Retreat  of  the  Ten 
Thousand  was  the  first  instance  of  the  kind  that  was 
known.' 

'  Supposing  (said  he)  a  wife  to  be  of  a  studious  or 
argumentative  turn,  it  would  be  very  troublesome  ; 
for  instance,  if  a  woman  should  continually  dwell 
upon  the  subject  of  the  Arian  heresy.' 

'  No  man  speaks  concerning  another,  even  suppose 
it  be  in  his  praise,  if  he  thinks  he  does  not  hear  him 


narrow  conceptions  have  been  infected.  I  have  heard  him  strongly 
maintain  that  'what  is  right  is  not  so  from  any  natural  fitness,  but  be- 
cause God  wills  it  to  be  right ' ;  and  it  is  certainly  so,  because  he  has 
predisposed  the  relations  of  things  so  as  that  which  he  wills  must  be 
right. — BoswELL. 

1  I  hope  the  authority  of  the  great  Master  of  our  language  will  stop 
that  curtailing  innovation  by  which  we  ss&critic,  public, etc  frequently 
written  instead  oi  critick,  fublick,  etc. 


^CT.  7i]    LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON         171 

exactly  as  he  would,  if  he  thought  he  was  within 
hearing.' 

'  '^  The  applause  of  a  single  human  being  is  of  great 
consequence."  This  he  said  to  me  with  great  earnest- 
ness of  manner,  very  near  the  time  of  his  decease,  on 
occasion  of  having  desired  me  to  read  a  letter  addressed 
to  him  from  some  person  in  the  North  of  England  ; 
which  when  I  had  done,  and  he  asked  me  what  the 
contents  were,  as  I  thought  being  particular  upon  it 
might  fatigue  him,  it  being  of  great  length,  I  only 
told  him  in  general  that  it  was  highly  in  his  praise  ; — 
and  then  he  expressed  himself  as  above.' 

*He  mentioned  with  an  air  of  satisfaction  what 
Baretti  had  told  him  ;  that,  meeting,  in  the  course  of 
his  studying  English,  with  an  excellent  paper  in  the 
Spectator,  one  of  four  that  were  written  by  the  respect- 
able dissenting  minister,  Mr.  Grove  of  Taunton,  and 
observing  the  genius  and  energy  of  mind  that  it  ex- 
hibits, it  greatly  quickened  his  curiosity  to  visit  our 
country ;  as  he  thought,  if  such  were  the  lighter 
periodical  essays  of  our  authors,  their  productions  on 
more  weighty  occasions  must  be  wonderful  indeed  ! ' 

*  He  observed  once,  at  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds's,  that 
a  beggar  in  the  street  will  more  readily  ask  alms  from 
a  man,  though  there  should  be  no  marks  of  wealth  in 
his  appearance,  than  from  even  a  well-dressed  woman ;^ 
which  he  accounted  for  from  the  great  degi-ee  of  care- 
fulness as  to  money  that  is  to  be  found  in  women ; 
saying  further  upon  it,  that,  the  opportunities  in 
general  that  they  possess  of  improving  their  condition 
are  much  fewer  than  men  have ;  and  adding,  as  he 

^  Sterne  is  of  a  direct  contrary  opinion.  See  his  Seniimentai 
Journey,  Article,  '  The  Mystery.' — Boswell. 


172         LIFE    OF  DR.    JOHNSON        [1781 

looked  round  the  company,  which  consisted  of  men 
only, — there  is  not  one  of  us  who  does  not  think  he 
might  be  richer,  if  he  would  use  his  endeavour.' 

'  He  thus  characterised  an  ingenious  writer  of  his 
acquaintance :  "  Sir,  he  is  an  enthusiast  by  rule. " ' 

'"He  may  hold  up  that  shield  against  all  his  ene- 
mies" was  an  observation  on  Homer  in  reference  to 
his  description  of  the  shield  of  Achilles,  made  by  Mrs. 
Fitzherbert,  wife  to  his  friend  Mr.  Fitzherbert  of  Derby- 
shire, and  respected  by  Dr.  Johnson  as  a  very  fine  one. 
He  had  in  general  a  very  high  opinion  of  that  lady's 
understanding.' 

*  An  observation  of  Bathurst's  may  be  mentioned, 
which  Johnson  repeated,  appearing  to  acknowledge  it 
to  be  well  founded ;  namely,  it  was  somewhat  remark- 
able how  seldom,  on  occasion  of  coming  into  the  com- 
pany of  any  new  person,  one  felt  any  wish  or  inclination 
to  see  him  again. ' 


This  year  the  Reverend  Dr.  Francklin  having  pub- 
lished a  translation  of  Lucian,  inscribed  to  him  the 
Demonax  thus : 

'  To  Dr.  Samuel  Johnson,  the  Demonax  of  the  present  age, 
this  piece  is  inscribed  by  a  sincere  admirer  of  his  respectable 
talents,  The  Translator.' 

Though  upon  a  particular  comparison  of  Demonax 
and  Johnson,  there  does  not  seem  to  be  a  great  deal 
of  similarity  between  them,  this  dedication  is  a  just 
compliment  from  the  general  character  given  by 
Lucian  of  the  ancient  Sage,  '  apiarov  av  olha  iya  (f)iKo- 
a-6(po)v  yevojxevov,  the  best  philosopher  whom  I  have 
ever  seen  or  known.' 


iET.  72]    LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON         173 

In  1781,  Johnson  at  last  completed  his  Lives  of  the 
Poets,  of  which  he  gives  this  account :  '  Some  time  in 
March  I  finished  the  Lives  of  the  Poets,  which  I  wrote 
in  my  usual  way,  dilatorily  and  hastily,  unwilling  to 
work,  and  working  with  vigour  and  haste.'  In  a 
memorandum  previous  to  this,  he  says  of  them : 
^Written,  I  hope,  in  such  a  manner  as  may  tend 
to  the  promotion  of  piety.' 

This  is  the  work  which  of  all  Dr.  Johnson's  writings 
will  perhaps  he  read  most  generally,  and  with  most 
pleasure.  Philology  and  biography  were  his  favourite 
pursuits,  and  those  who  lived  most  in  intimacy  with  him, 
heard  him  upon  all  occasions,  when  there  was  a  proper 
opportunity,  take  delight  in  expatiating  upon  the 
various  merits  of  the  English  poets ;  upon  the  nice- 
ties of  their  characters,  and  the  events  of  their  pro- 
gress through  the  world  which  they  contribute  to 
Uluminate.  His  mind  was  so  full  of  that  kind  of 
information,  and  it  was  so  well  arranged  in  his  memory, 
that  in  performing  what  he  had  undertaken  in  this 
way,  he  had  little  more  to  do  than  to  put  his  thoughts 
upon  paper ;  exhibiting  first  each  poet's  life,  and  then 
subjoining  a  critical  examination  of  his  genius  and 
works.  But  when  he  began  to  write,  the  subject 
swelled  in  such  a  manner,  that  instead  of  prefaces 
to  each  poet,  of  no  more  than  a  few  pages,  as  he  had 
originally  intended,^  he  produced  an  ample,  rich,  and 

1  His  design  is  thus  announced  in  his  Advertisement:  'The  Book- 
sellers having  determined  to  publish  a  body  of  English  Poetry,  I  was 
persuaded  to  promise  them  a  preface  to  the  works  of  each  author ;  an 
undertaking,  as  it  was  then  presented  to  my  mind,  not  very  tedious  or 
difficult. 

'  My  purpose  was  only  to  have  allotted  to  every  poet  an  Advertise- 
ment, like  that  which  we  find  in  the  French  Miscellanies,  containing^  a 
few  dates,  and  a  general  character;  but  I  have  been  led  beyond  my  in- 
tention, I  hope  by  the  honest  desire  of  giving  useful  pleasure.' 


174  LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON        [1781 

most  entertaining  view  of  them  in  every  respect.  In 
this  he  resembled  Quintilian,  who  tells  us,  that  in 
the  composition  of  his  Institutions  of  Oratory,  '  Latins 
se  tamen  apariente  materia^  plus  quam  imponebatur  oneris 
sponte  suscepi.'  The  booksellers,  justly  sensible  of  the 
great  additional  value  of  the  copyright,  presented  him 
with  another  hundred  pounds,  over  and  above  two 
hundred,  for  which  his  agreement  was  to  furnish  such 
prefaces  as  he  thought  fit. 

This  was,  however,  but  a  small  recompense  for  such 
a  collection  of  biography,  and  such  principles  and 
illustrations  of  criticism,  as,  if  digested  and  arranged 
in  one  system,  by  some  modern  Aristotle  or  Longinus, 
might  form  a  code  upon  that  subject,  such  as  no  other 
nation  can  show.  As  he  was  so  good  as  to  make  me  a 
present  of  the  greatest  part  of  the  original  and  indeed 
only  manuscript  of  this  admirable  work,  I  have  an 
opportunity  of  observing  with  wonder  the  correctness 
with  which  he  rapidly  struck  off  such  glowing  com- 
position. He  may  be  assimilated  to  the  Lady  in 
Waller,  who  could  impress  with  *  Love  at  first  sight : ' 

'  Some  other  nymphs  with  colours  faint, 
And  pencil  slow,  may  Cupid  paint, 
And  a  weak  heart  in  time  destroy ; 
She  has  a  stamp,  and  prints  the  boy.' 

That  he,  however,  had  a  good  deal  of  trouble,  and 
some  anxiety  in  carrying  on  the  work,  we  see  from  a 
series  of  letters  to  Mr.  Nichols,  the  printer,^  whose 

1  Thus : — '  In  the  Life  of  Waller,  Mr.  Nichols  will  find  a  reference  to 
the  Parliamentary  History,  from  which  a  long  quotation  is  to  be  in- 
serted. If  Mr.  Nichols  cannot  easily  find  the  book,  Mr.  Johnson  will 
send  it  from  Streatham.' 

'  Clarendon  is  here  returned.' 

'  By  some  accident,  I  laid  yaur  note  upon  Duke  up  so  safely,  that  I 
cannot  find  it.     Yoiu:  informations  have  been  of  great  use  to  me.     I 


;et.  72]    LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON         176 

variety  of  literary  inquiry  and  obliging  disposition, 
rendered  him  useful  to  Johnson.  Mr.  Steevens 
appears,  from  the  papers  in  my  possession,  to  have 
supplied  him  with  some  anecdotes  and  quotations; 
and  I  observe  the  fair  hand  of  Mrs.  Thrale  as  one  of 
his  copyists  of  select  passages.  But  he  was  princi- 
pally 'indebted  to  my  steady  friend,  Mr.  Isaac  Reed, 
of  Staple  Inn,  whose  extensive  and  accurate  know- 
ledge of  English  literary  history  I  do  not  express  with 
exaggeration,  when  I  say  it  is  wonderful ;  indeed, 
his  labours  have  proved  it  to  the  world  ;  and  all  who 
have  the  pleasure  of  his  acquaintance  can  bear  testi- 
mony to  the  frankness  of  his  communication  in  private 
society. 

It  is  not  my  intention  to  dwell  upon  each  of  John- 


must  beg  it  again  ;  with  another  list  of  our  authors,  for  I  have  laid  that 
with  the  other.  I  have  sent  Stepney's  Epitaph.  Let  me  have  the 
revises  as  soon  as  can  be.     Dec.  T778.' 

'  I  have  sent  PhiUps,  with  his  Epitaphs,  to  be  inserted.  The  fragment 
of  a  preface  is  hardly  worth  the  impression,  but  that  we  may  seem  to  do 
something.  It  may  be  added  to  the  Life  of  PhiHps.  The  Latin  page 
is  to  be  added  to  the  Life  of  Smith.  I  shall  be  at  home  to  revise  the 
two  sheets  of  Milton.     March  i,  1779.' 

'  Please  to  get  me  the  last  edition  of  Hughes's  Letters  ;  and  try  to 
get  Dennis  upon  Blackmore,  and  upon  Cato,  and  anything  of  the  same 
writer  against  Pope.     Our  materials  are  defective.' 

'  As  Waller  professed  to  have  imitated  Fairfa.x,  do  you  think  a  few 
pages  of  Fairfax  would  enrich  our  edition  ?  Few  readers  have  seen  it, 
and  it  may  please  them.     But  it  is  not  necessary.' 

'An  account  of  the  lives  and  works  of  some  of  the  most  eminent 
English  Poets.  By,  etc.— "The  English  Poets,  biographically  and 
critically  considered,  by  Sam.  Johnson."  Let  Mr.  Nichols  take  his 
choice,  or  make  another  to  his  mind.     May  1781.' 

'  You  somehow  forgot  the  advertisement  for  the  new  edition.  It  was 
not  enclosed.  Of  Gay's  Letters  I  see  not  that  any  use  can  be  made, 
for  they  give  no  infonnation  of  anything.  That  he  was  a  member  of  a 
Philosophical  Society  is  something ;  but  surely  he  could  be  but  a 
corresponding  member.  However,  not  having  his  life  here,  I  know  not 
how  to  put  it  in,  and  it  is  of  little  importance. 

See  several  more  in  The  GentUinans  Magazine,  '785.  The  editor 
of  that  miscellany,  in  which  Johnson  wrote  for  several  years,  seems 
justly  to  think  that  every  fragment  of  so  great  a  man  is  worthy  of 
Deing  preserved. 


176         LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1781 

son's  Lives  of  the  Poets,  or  attempt  an  analysis  of  their 
merits,  which,  were  I  able  to  do  it,  would  take  up  too 
much  room  in  this  work  ;  yet  I  shall  make  a  few  obser- 
vations upon  some  of  them,  and  insert  a  few  various 
readings. 

The  Life  of  Cowley  he  himself  considered  as  the 
best  of  the  whole,  on  account  of  the  dissertation  which 
it  contains  on  the  Metaphysical  Poets.  Dryden,  whose 
critical  abilities  were  equal  to  his  poetical,  had  men- 
tioned them  in  his  excellent  dedication  of  his  Juvenal, 
but  had  barely  mentioned  them.  Johnson  has  exhibited 
them  at  large,  with  such  happy  illustration  from  their 
writings,  and  in  so  luminous  a  manner,  that  indeed 
he  may  be  allowed  the  full  merit  of  novelty,  and  to 
have  discovered  to  us,  as  it  were,  a  new  planet  in  the 
poetical  hemisphere. 

It  is  remarked  by  Johnson,  in  considering  the  works 
of  a  poet,^  that  '  amendments  are  seldom  made  without 
some  token  of  a  rent ; '  but  I  do  not  find  that  this  is 
applicable  to  prose.  ^  We  shall  see  that  though  his 
amendments  in  this  work  are  for  the  better,  there  is 
nothing  of  the  pannus  assutus  ;  the  texture  is  uniform : 
and  indeed,  what  had  been  there  at  first,  is  very  seldom 
unfit  to  have  remained. 

Various  Readings  '  in  the  Life  of  Cowley 

'All  [future  votaries  of]  that  may  hereafter  pant  for 
solitude. 


1  Lt/e  of  Sheffield. 

2  [See,  however,  p.  150  of  this  volume,  where  the  same  remark  is  made, 
and  Johnson  is  there  speaking  of  prose.  In  his  Life  of  Dryden  his 
observations  in  the  opera  of  X'/«^^>-M«r  furnish  a  striking  instance 
of  the  truth  of  this  remark.  — M.] 

8  The  original  reading  is  enclosed  in  crotchets,  and  the  present  one 
b  printed  Id  italics. 


iET.  72]    LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  177 

'  To  conceive  and  execute  the  [agitation  or  perception]  pains 
and  the  pleasures  of  other  minds. 

'  The  wide  effulgence  of  [the  blazing]  a  summer  noon.' 

In  the  Life  of  Waller,  Johnson  gives  a  distinct  and 
animated  narrative  of  public  affairs  in  that  variegated 
period,  with  strong  yet  nice  touches  of  character ;  and 
having  a  fair  opportunity  to  display  his  political  prin- 
ciples, does  it  with  an  unqualified  manly  confidence, 
and  satisfies  his  readers  how  nobly  he  might  have 
executed  a  Tory  History  of  his  country. 

So  easy  is  his  style  in  these  Lives  that  I  do  not 
recollect  more  than  three  uncommon  or  learned  words  ; 
one,  when  giving  an  account  of  the  approach  of 
Waller's  mortal  disease,  he  says,  '  he  found  his  legs 
grow  tumid';  by  using  the  expression,  his  legs 
swelled,  he  would  have  avoided  this  ;  and  there  would 
have  been  no  impropi-iety  in  its  being  followed  by  the 
interesting  question  to  his  physician,  'What  that 
swelling  meant?*  Another,  when  he  mentions  that 
Pope  had  emitted  proposals,  when  published  or  issued 
would  have  been  more  readily  understood ;  and  a 
third,  when  he  calls  Orrery  and  Dr.  Delany,  writers 
both  undoubtedly  veracious ;  when  true,  honest,  or 
faithful,  might  have  been  used.  Yet  it  must  be  owned 
that  none  of  these  are  hard  or  too  big  words  :  that 
custom  would  make  them  seem  as  easy  as  any  others  ; 
and  that  a  language  is  richer  and  capable  of  more 
beauty  of  expression  by  having  a  greater  variety  of 
synonyms. 

His  dissertation  upon  the  unfitness  of  poetry  for  the 
awfiil  subjects  of  our  holy  religion,  though  I  do  not 
entirely  agree  with  him,  has  all  the  merit  of  originality, 
with  uncommon  force  and  reasoning. 

VOI<.  V.  M 


178         LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1781 

Various  Readings  in  the  Life  of  Waller 

Consented  to  [the  insertion  of  their  names]  their  own 
nomination. 

'  [After]  paying  a  fine  of  ten  thousand  pounds. 

'Congratulating  Charles  the  Second  on  his  [coronation] 
recovered  right. 

'  He  that  has  flattery  ready  for  all  whom  the  vicissitudes  of 
the  world  happen  to  exalt,  must  be  [confessed  to  degrade  hia 
powers]  scorned  as  a  prostituted  mind. 

'  The  characters  by  which  Waller  intended  to  distinguish 
his  writings  are  [elegance]  sprightliness  and  dignity. 

'  Blossoms  to  be  valued  only  as  they  [fetch]  foretell  fruit. 

'Images  such  as  the  superficies  of  nature  [easily]  readily 
supplies. 

'[His]  Some  applications  [are  sometimes]  may  he  thought 
too  remote  and  unconsequential. 

'  His  images  are  [sometimes  confused]  not  always  distinct. 

Against  his  Life  of  Milton  the  hounds  of  A^Tiiggism 
have  opened  in  full  cry.  But  of  Milton's  great 
excellence  as  a  poet,  where  shall  we  find  such  a 
blazon  as  by  the  hand  of  Johnson }  I  shall  select 
only  the  following  passage  concerning  Paradise 
Lost : 

*  Fancy  can  hardly  forbear  to  conjecture  with  what  temper 
Milton  surveyed  the  silent  progress  of  his  work,  and  marked 
his  reputation  stealing  its  way  in  a  kind  of  subterraneous 
current,  through  fear  and  silence.  I  cannot  but  conceive  him 
calm  and  confident,  little  disappointed,  not  at  all  dejected, 
relying  on  his  own  merit  with  steady  consciousness,  and  wait- 
ing without  impatience  the  vicissitudes  of  opinion,  and  the 
impartiality  of  a  future  generation.' 

Indeed  even  Dr.  Towers,  who  may  be  considered  as 
one  of  the  warmest  zealots  of  the  Revolution  Society 
itself,  allows  that  '  Johnson  has  spoken  in  the  highest 
terms  of  the  abilities  of  that  great  poet,  and  has 


MT.72]    LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON         179 

bestowed  on  his  principal  poetical  compositions  the 
most  honourable  encomiums.'  ^ 

That  a  man^  who  venerated  the  Church  and 
Monarchy  as  Johnson  did,  should  speak  with  a  just 
abhorrence  of  Milton  as  a  politician,  or  rather  as  a 
daring  foe  to  good  polity,  was  surely  to  be  expected ; 
and  to  those  who  censure  him,  I  would  recommend 
his  commentary  on  Milton's  celebrated  complaint  of 
his  situation,  when  by  the  lenity  of  Charles  the 
Second,  '  a  lenity  of  which  (as  Johnson  well  observes) 
the  world  has  had  perhaps  no  other  example,  he,  who 
had  written  in  justification  of  the  murder  of  his 
Sovereign,  was  safe  under  an  Act  of  Oblivion.'  'No 
sooner  is  he  safe  than  he  finds  himself  in  danger, 
fallen  on  evil  days  and  evil  tongues,  with  darkness  and 
with  dangers  compassed  round.  This  darkness,  had  his 
eyes  been  better  employed,  had  undoubtedly  deserved 
compassion ;  but  to  add  the  mention  of  danger  was 
ungrateful  and  unjust.  He  was  fallen,  indeed,  on 
evil  days ;  the  time  was  come  in  which  regicides  could 
no  longer  boast  their  wickedness.     But  of  evil  tongues 


1  See  An  Essay  on  tkt  Life,  Character,  and  Writings  of  Dr. 
Samuel  Johnson,  London,  1787,  which  is  very  well  written,  making  a 
proper  allowance  for  the  democratical  bigotry  of  its  author  ;  whom  I 
cannot  however  but  admire  for  his  liberality  in  speaking  thus  of  my 
illustrious  friend  : 

'  He  possessed  extraordinary  powers  of  understanding,  which  were 
much  cultivated  by  study,  and  still  more  by  meditation  and  reflection. 
His  memory  was  remarkably  retentive,  his  imagination  uncommonly 
vigorous,  and  his  judgment  keen  and  penetrating.  He  had  a  strong 
sense  of  the  importance  of  religion  ;  his  piety  was  sincere,  and  some- 
times ardent ;  and  his  zeal  for  the  interests  of  virtue  was  often  mani- 
fested in  his  conversation  and  in  his  writings.  The  same  energy  which 
was  displayed  in  his  literary  productions  was  exhibited  also  in  his  con- 
versation, which  was  various,  striking,  and  instructive  ;  and  perhaps 
no  man  ever  equalled  him  for  nervous  and  pointed  repartee. 

'  His  Dictionary,  his  moral  Essays^  and  his  productions  in  polite 
literature,  will  convey  useful  instruction,  and  elegant  entertainment, 
as  long  as  the  language  in  which  they  are  written  shall  be  under* 
stood. 


180  LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON        [178/ 

for  Milton  to  complain,  required  impudence  at  least 
equal  to  his  other  powers ;  Milton,  whose  warmest 
advocates  must  allow,  that  he  never  spared  any 
asperity  of  reproach,  or  brutality  of  insolence.' 

I  have,  indeed,  often  wondered  how  Milton,  'an 
acrimonious  and  surly  Republican,'  ^ — '  a  man  who,  in 
his  domestic  relations,  was  so  severe  and  arbitrary,'  ^ 
and  whose  head  was  filled  with  the  hardest  and  most 
dismal  tenets  of  Calvinism,  should  have  been  such  a 
poet;  should  not  only  have  written  with  sublimity, 
but  with  beauty,  and  even  gaiety ;  should  have  ex- 
quisitely painted  the  sweetest  sensations  of  which  our 
nature  is  capable ;  imaged  the  delicate  raptures  of 
connubial  love ;  nay,  seemed  to  be  animated  with  all 
the  spirit  of  revelry.  It  is  a  proof  that  in  the  human 
mind  the  departments  of  judgment  and  imagination, 
perception  and  temper,  may  sometimes  be  divided  by 
strong  partitions ;  and  that  the  light  and  shade  in  the 
same  character  may  be  kept  so  distinct  as  never  to  be 
blended.^ 

In  the  Life  of  Milton,  Johnson  took  occasion  to 
maintain  his  own  and  the  general  opinion  of  the  ex- 
cellence of  rhyme  over  blank  verse,  in  English  poetry ; 
and  quotes  this  apposite  illustration  of  it  by  '  an  in- 
genious critic,'  that  it  seems  to  be  verse  only  to  the  eye.  * 
The  gentleman  whom  he  thus  characterises,  is  (as  he 


1  Johnson's  Life  of  Milton.  2  fUd. 

3  Mr.  Malone  thinks  it  is  rather  a  proof  that  he  felt  nothing  of  those 
cheerful  sensations  which  he  has  described ;  that  on  these  topics  it  is 
the  poet,  and  not  the  man,  that  writes. 

*  One  of  the  most  natural  instances  of  the  effect  of  blank  verse 
occurred  to  the  late  Earl  of  Hopetoun.  His  Lordship  observed  one 
of  his  shepherds  poring  in  the  fields  upon  Milton's  Paradise  Lost ;  and 
having  asked  him  what  book  it  was,  the  man  answered,  '  An't  please 
your  Lordship,  this  is  a  very  odd  sort  of  an  author ;  he  would  fain 
rhyme,  but  cannot  get  at  it.' 


JET.  72]    LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON  181 

told  Mr.  Seward)  Mr.  Locke,  of  Norbury  Park,  in 
Surrey,  whose  knowledge  and  taste  in  the  fine  arts  is 
universally  celebrated  ;  with  whose  elegance  of  man- 
ners the  writer  of  the  present  work  has  felt  himself 
much  impressed,  and  to  whose  virtues  a  common 
friend,  who  has  known  him  long,  and  is  not  much 
addicted  to  flattery,  gives  the  highest  testimony. 

Various  Readings  in  the  Life  of  Milton 

'  I  cannot  find  any  meaning  but  this  which  [his  most  bigoted 
advocates]  even  kindness  and  reverence  can  give. 

*  [Perhaps  no]  Scarcely  any  man  ever  wrote  so  much,  and 
praised  so  few. 

'  A  certain  [rescue]  preservative  from  oblivion. 

'  Let  me  not  be  censured  for  this  digression,  as  [contracted] 
pedantic  or  paradoxical. 

'  Socrates  rather  was  of  opinion,  that  what  we  had  to  learn 
was  how  to  [obtain  and  communicate  happiness]  do  good  and 
avoid  evil. 

'  Its  elegance  [who  can  exhibit  ?]  is  less  attainable.' 

1  could,  with  pleasure,  expatiate  upon  the  masterly 
execution  of  the  Life  of  Dryden,  which  we  have  seen^ 
was  one  of  Johnson's  literary  projects  at  an  early 
period,  and  which  it  is  remarkable,  that  after  desist- 
ing from  it,  from  a  supposed  scantiness  of  materials, 
he  should,  at  an  advanced  age,  have  exhibited  so 
amply. 

His  defence  of  that  great  poet  against  the  illiberal 
attacks  upon  him,  as  if  his  embracing  the  Roman 
Catholic  communion  had  been  a  time-serving  measure, 
is  a  piece  of  reasoning  at  once  able  and  candid. 
Indeed,  Dryden  himself,   in  his  Hind  and  Panther, 

2  See  vol.  iv.  p.  79. 


182         LIFE   OF   BR.    JOHNSON        [1781 

hath  given  such  a  picture  of  his  mind,  that  they  who 
know  the  anxiety  for  repose  as  to  the  awful  subject  of 
our  state  beyond  the  grave,  though  they  may  think 
his  opinion  ill-founded,  must  think  charitably  of  his 
sentiment : 

•  But,  gracious  God,  how  well  dost  thou  provide 
For  erring  judgments  an  unerring  guide  ? 
Thy  throne  is  darkness  in  the  abyss  of  light, 
A  blaze  of  glory  that  forbids  the  sight. 
O  !  teach  me  to  believe  thee  thus  conceal'd. 
And  search  no  farther  than  thyself  reveal'd  ; 
But  Her  alone  for  my  director  take. 
Whom  thou  hast  promised  never  to  forsake. 
My  thoughtless  youth  was  wing'd  with  vain  desires : 
My  manhood,  long  misled  by  wand'ring  fires, 
Follow'd  false  lights ;  and  when  their  glimpse  was  gone. 
My  pride  struck  out  new  sparkles  of  her  own. 
Such  was  I,  such  by  nature  still  I  am ; 
Be  thine  the  glory,  and  be  mine  the  shame. 
Good  life  be  now  my  task :  my  doubts  are  done ; 
What  more  could  shock  my  faith  than  Three  in  One  t* 

In  drawing  Dryden's  character,  Johnson  has  given, 
though  I  suppose  unintentionally,  some  touches  of  his 
own.     Thus : 

'The  power  that  predominated  in  his  intellectual  opera« 
tions  was  rather  strong  reason  than  quick  sensibility.  Upon 
all  occasions  that  were  presented,  he  studied  rather  than  felt; 
and  produced  sentiments  not  such  as  Nature  enforces,  but 
meditation  supplies.  With  the  simple  and  elemental  passions 
as  they  spring  separate  in  the  mind,  he  seems  not  much 
acquainted.  He  is,  therefore,  with  all  his  variety  of  excel- 
lence, not  often  pathetic ;  and  had  so  little  sensibility  of  the 
power  of  efiEusions  purely  natural,  that  he  did  not  esteem 
them  in  others.' 

It  may  indeed  be  observed,  that  in  all  the  numerous 
writings  of  Johnson,  whether  in  prose  or  verse,  and 


iET.  72]     LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON  183 

even  in  his  Tragedy,  of  which  the  subject  is  the 
distress  of  an  unfortunate  Princess,  there  is  not  a 
single  passage  that  ever  drew  a  tear.^ 

Various  Readings  in  the  Life  of  Dryden 

'The  reason  of  this  general  perusal,  Addison  has  attempted 
to  [find  in]  derive  from  the  delights  which  the  mind  feels  in 
the  investigation  of  secrets. 

'  His  best  actions  are  but  [convenient]  inability  of  wicked- 
ness. 

'  When  once  he  had  engaged  himself  in  disputation,  [matter] 
(kouffhts  flowed  in  on  either  side. 

'  The  abyss  of  an  un-ideal  [emptiness]  vacancy. 

"These,  like  [many  other  harlots]  the  harlots  of  other  men, 
had  his  love  though  not  his  approbation. 

'He  [sometimes  displays]  descends  to  display  his  know- 
ledge with  pedantic  ostentation. 

'  French  words  which  [were  then  used  in]  had  then  crept 
into  conversation.' 

The  Life  of  Pope  was  written  by  Johnson  con  amore, 
both  from  the  early  possession  which  that  writer 
had  taken  of  his  mind,  and  from  the  pleasure  which 
he  must  have  felt,  in  for  ever  silencing  all  attempts  to 
lessen  his  poetical  fame,  by  demonstrating  his  excel- 
lence, and  pronouncing  the  following  triumphant 
eulogium : 

'After  all  this,  it  is  surely  superfluous  to  answer  the 
question  that  has  once  been  asked.  Whether  Pope  was  a  poet? 
otherwise  than  by  asking  in  return.  If  Pope  be  not  a  poet, 
where  is  poetry  to  be  found?  To  circumscribe  poetry  by  a 
definition,  will  only  show  the  narrowness  of  the  definer: 
though  a  definition  which  shall  exclude  Pope  will  not  easily 


1  (This  is  ill-considered  criticism.  Johnson,  both  in  prose  and  verse, 
is  not  infrequently  deeply  pathetic.  A  little  later  on  Boswell  himwilf 
writes  of  the  pathetic  verses  on  Levett's  death. — A.  B.) 


184         LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON       [1781 

be  made.  Let  us  look  round  upon  the  present  time,  and  back 
upon  the  past ;  let  us  inquire  to  whom  the  voice  of  mankind 
has  decreed  the  wreath  of  poetry;  let  their  productions  be 
examined,  and  their  claims  stated,  and  the  pretensions  of 
Pope  will  be  no  more  disputed.' 

I  remember  once  to  have  heard  Johnson  say,  '  Sir,  a 
thousand  years  may  elapse  before  there  shall  appear 
another  man  with  a  power  of  versification  equal  to 
that  of  Pope.'  That  power  must  undoubtedly  be 
allowed  its  due  share  in  enhancing  the  value  of  his 
captivating  composition. 

Johnson,  who  had  done  liberal  justice  to  Warbur- 
ton  in  his  edition  of  Shakespeare,  which  was  published 
during  the  life  of  that  powerful  writer,  with  still 
greater  liberality  took  an  opportunity,  in  the  Life  of 
Pope,  of  paying  the  tribute  due  to  him  when  he  was 
no  longer  in  'high  place,'  but  numbered  with  the 
dead.^ 


1  Of  Johnson's  conduct  towards  Warburton,  a  very  honourable 
notice  is  taken  by  the  editor  of  Tracts  by  Warburton,  and  a 
Warburtonian,  not  admitted  into  the  collection  of  their  respective 
Works.  After  an  able  and  '  fond,  though  not  undistinguishing,'  con- 
sideration of  Warburton's  character,  he  says,  '  In  two  immortal  works, 
Johnson  has  stood  fonh  in  the  foremost  rank  of  his  admirers.  By  the 
testimony  of  such  a  man,  impertinence  must  be  abashed,  and  malignity 
itself  must  be  softened.  Ot  literary  merit,  Johnson,  as  we  all  know, 
was  a  sagacious,  but  a  most  severe  judge.  Such  was  his  discernment, 
that  he  pierced  into  the  most  secret  springs  of  human  actions  ;  and 
such  was  his  integrity,  that  he  always  weighed  the  moral  characters  of 
his  fellow-creatures  in  the  'balance  of  the  sanctuary.'  He  was  too 
courageous  to  propitiate  a  rival,  and  too  proud  to  truckle  to  a  superior. 
Warburton  he  knew,  as  I  know  him,  and  as  every  man  of  sense  and 
virtue  would  wish  to  be  known, — I  mean,  both  from  his  own  writings, 
and  from  the  writings  of  those  who  dissented  from  his  principles,  or 
who  envied  his  reputation.  But,  as  to  favours,  he  had  never  received 
or  asked  any  from  the  Bishop  of  Gloucester  :  and,  if  my  memory  fails 
me  not,  he  had  seen  him  only  once,  when  they  met  almost  without 
design,  conversed  without  much  effort,  and  parted  without  any  lasting 
impression  of  hatred  or  affection.  Yet,  with  all  the  ardour  of 
sympathetic  genius,  Johnson  had  done  that  spontaneously  and  ably, 
which,  by  some  writers,  had  been  before  attempted  injudiciously,  and 
which,  by  others,  from  whom  more  successful  attempts  might  have 


Mr.72\    LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON         186 

It  seems  strange  that  two  such  men  as  Johnson  and 
Warburton,  who  lived  in  the  same  age  and  country, 
should  not  only  not  have  been  in  any  degree  of  inti- 
macy, but  been  almost  personally  unacquainted.  But 
such  instances,  though  we  must  wonder  at  them,  are 
not  rare.  If  I  am  rightly  informed,  after  a  careful 
inquiry,  they  never  met  but  once,  which  was  at  the 
house  of  Mrs.  French,  in  London,  well  known  for  her 
elegant  assemblies,  and  bringing  eminent  characters 
together.  The  interview  proved  to  be  mutually 
agreeable. 

I  am  well  informed  that  Warburton  said  of  John- 
son, '  I  admire  him,  but  I  cannot  bear  his  style' :  and 
that  Johnson  being  told  of  this,  said,  '  That  is  exactly 
my  case  as  to  him.'  The  manner  in  which  he  ex- 
pressed his  admiration  of  the  fertility  of  Warburton's 
genius  and  of  the  variety  of  his  materials,  was,  'The 

been  expected,  has  not  hitherto  been  done  at  all.  He  spoke  well  of 
Warburton,  without  insulting  those  whom  Warburton  despised.  He 
suppressed  not  the  imperfections  of  this  extraordinary  man,  while  he 
endeavoured  to  do  justice  to  his  numerous  and  transcendental  ex- 
cellencies. He  defended  him  when  living,  amidst  the  clamours  of 
his  enemies  ;  and  praised  him  when  dead,  amidst  the  silence  of  his 
friends' 

Having  availed  myself  of  this  editor's  eulogy  on  my  departed 
friend,  for  which  I  warmly  thank  him,  let  me  not  suffer  the  lustre  of 
his  reputation,  honestly  acquired  by  profound  learning  and  vigorous 
eloquence,  to  be  tarnished  by  a  charge  of  illiberality.  He  has  been 
accused  of  invidiously  dragging  again  into  light  certain  writings  of  a 
per-on  respectable  by  his  talents,  his  learning,  his  station,  and  his  age, 
which  were  published  a  great  many  years  ago,  and  have  since,  it  is 
said,  been  silently  given  up  by  their  author.  But  when  it  is  considered 
that  these  writings  were  not  sins  of  youth,  but  deliberate  works  of  one 
well  advanced  in  life,  overflowing  at  once  with  flattery  to  a  great  man 
of  great  interest  in  the  Church,  and  with  unjust  and  acrimonious  abuse 
of  two  men  of  eminent  merit ;  and  that,  though  it  would  have  been  un- 
reasonable to  expect  an  humiliating  recantation,  no  apology  whatever 
has  been  made  in  the  cool  of  the  evening,  for  the  oppressive  fervour  of 
the  heat  of  the  day  ;  no  slight  relenting  indication  has  appeared  in  any 
note,  or  any  corner  of  later  publications  ;  is  it  not  fair  to  understand 
him  as  superciliously  persevering?  When  he  allows  the  shafts  to 
remain  in  the  wounds,  and  will  not  stretch  forth  a  lenient  hand,  is  it 
wrong,  is  it  not  generous  to  become  an  indignant  avenger? 


186  LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON        [1781 

table  is  always  full,  sir.  He  brings  things  from  the 
north,  and  the  south,  and  from  every  quarter.  In 
his  Divine  Legation  you  are  always  entertained.  He 
carries  you  round  and  round,  without  carrying  you 
forward  to  the  point ;  but  then  you  have  no  wish  to 
be  carried  forward.*  He  said  to  the  Rev.  Mr.  Strahan, 
'  Warburton  is  perhaps  the  last  man  who  has  written 
with  a  mind  full  of  reading  and  reflection.' 

It  is  remarkable  that  in  the  Life  of  Broome,  Johnson 
takes  notice  of  Dr.  Warburton  using  a  mode  of  ex- 
pression which  he  himself  used,  and  that  not  seldom, 
to  the  great  offence  of  those  who  did  not  know  him. 
Having  occasion  to  mention  a  note,  stating  the  different 
parts  which  were  executed  by  the  associated  trans- 
lators of  the  Odyssey,  he  says,  *Dr.  Warburton  told 
me,  in  his  warm  language,  that  he  thought  the  rela- 
tion given  in  the  note  a  lie.  The  language  is  warm 
indeed ;  and  I  must  own,  cannot  be  justified  in  con- 
sistency with  a  decent  regard  to  the  established  forms 
of  speech.'  Johnson  had  accustomed  himself  to  use 
the  word  lie  to  express  a  mistake  or  an  error  in  rela- 
tion ;  in  short,  when  the  thing  was  not  so  as  told,  though 
the  relator  did  not  mean  to  deceive.  ^VTien  he  thought 
there  was  intentional  falsehood  in  the  relator,  his  ex- 
pression was,  'He  lies,  and  he  knows  he  lies.' 

Speaking  of  Pope's  not  having  been  known  to  excel 
in  conversation,  'Johnson  observes  that  traditional 
memory  retains  no  sallies  of  raillery,  or  sentences  of 
observation ;  nothing  either  pointed  or  solid,  wise  or 
merry ;  and  that  one  apophthegm  only  is  recorded.* 
In  this  respect.  Pope  differed  widely  from  Johnson, 
whose  conversation  was,  perhaps,  more  admirable  than 
even  his  writings,  however  excellent.      Mr.  Wilkes 


>ET.  72]    LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON         187 

has,  however,  favoured  me  with  one  repartee  of  Pope, 
of  which  Johnson  was  not  informed.  Johnson,  after 
justly  censuring  him  for  having  'nursed  in  his  mind  a 
foolish  disesteem  of  Kings,'  tells  us,  *  yet  a  little  re- 
gard shown  him  by  the  Prince  of  Wales  melted  his 
obduracy ;  and  he  had  not  much  to  say  when  he  was 
asked  by  his  Royal  Highness,  how  he  could  love  a 
Prince,  while  he  disliked  Kings?'  The  answer  which 
Pope  made  was,  *The  young  lion  is  harmless,  and 
even  playful ;  but  when  his  claws  are  full  grown  he 
becomes  cruel,  dreadful,  and  mischievous.' 

But  although  we  have  no  collection  of  Pope's  say- 
ings, it  is  not  therefore  to  be  concluded  that  he  was 
not  agreeable  in  social  intercourse ;  for  Johnson  has 
been  heard  to  say  that  '  the  happiest  conversation  is 
that  of  which  nothing  is  distinctly  remembered,  but  a 
general  effect  of  pleasing  impression.'  The  late  Lord 
Somerville,^  who  saw  much  of  great  and  brilliant  life, 
told  me  that  he  had  dined  in  company  with  Pope,  and 
that  after  dinner  the  little  man,  as  he  called  him,  drank 
his  bottle  of  Burgundy,  and  was  exceedingly  gay  and 
entertaining. 

I  cannot  withhold  from  my  great  friend  a  censure 
of  at  least  culpable  inattention  to  a  nobleman  who, 
it  has  been  shown,  behaved  to  him  with  uncommon 

J  [James,  Lord  Somerville,  who  died  in  1766. — M.] 

Let  me  here  express  my  grateful  remembrance  of  Lord  Somerville's 
kindness  to  me,  at  a  very  early  period.  He  was  the  first  person  of  high 
rank  that  took  particular  notice  of  me  in  the  way  most  flattering;  to  a 
young  man  fondly  ambitious  of  being  distinguished  for  his  literary 
talents  ;  and  by  the  honour  of  bis  encouragement  made  me  think  well 
of  myself,  and  aspire  to  deserve  it  better.  He  had  a  happy  art  of  cora- 
muoicating  his  varied  knowledge  of  the  world,  in  short  remarks  and 
anecdotes,  with  a  quiet  pleasant  gravity  that  was  exceedingly  engaging. 
Never  shall  I  forget  the  hours  which  I  enjoyed  with  him  at  his  apart- 
ments in  the  Royal  Palace  of  Holyrood  House,  and  at  his  seat  near 
Edinburgh,  which  he  himself  had  formed  with  an  elegant  taste. 


188         LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1781 

politeness.  He  says^  '  Except  Lord  Bathurst,  none  of 
Pope's  noble  friends  were  such  as  that  a  good  man 
would  wish  to  have  his  intimacy  with  them  known  to 
posterity.'  This  will  not  apply  to  Lord  Mansfield,  who 
was  not  ennobled  in  Pope's  lifetime ;  but  Johnson 
should  have  recollected  that  Lord  Marchmont  was  one 
of  those  noble  friends.  He  includes  his  Lordship  along 
with  Lord  Bolingbroke  in  a  charge  of  neglect  of  the 
papers  which  Pope  left  by  his  will,  when,  in  truth,  as 
I  myself  pointed  out  to  him,  before  he  wrote  that 
poet's  life,  the  papers  were  '  committed  to  the  sole  care 
and  judgment  of  Lord  Bolingbroke,  unless  he  (Lord 
Bolingbroke)  shall  not  survive  me ' ;  so  that  Lord 
Marchmont  had  no  concern  whatever  with  them. 
After  the  first  edition  of  the  Lives,  Mr.  Malone,  whose 
love  of  justice  is  equal  to  his  accuracy,  made  in  my 
hearing  the  same  remark  to  Johnson  ;  yet  he  omitted 
to  correct  the  erroneous  statement.^  These  particulars 
I  mention  in  the  belief  that  there  was  only  forgetful- 
ness  in  my  friend  ;  but  I  owe  this  much  to  the  Earl 
of  Marchmont's  reputation,  who,  were  there  no  other 
memorials,  will  be  immortalised  by  that  line  of  Pope, 
in  the  verses  on  his  Grotto  : 

'And  the  bright  flame  was  shot  through  Marchmont's  sooL' 

Various  Readings  in  the  Life  of  Pope 

•[Somewhat  free]  sufficiently  hold  in  his  criticism. 

*  All  the  gay  [niceties]  varieties  of  diction. 

'  Strikes  the  imagination  with  far  [more]  greater  force. 


1  [This  neglect,  however,  assuredly  did  not  arise  from  any  iIl-wiIl 
towards  Lord  Marchmont,  but  from  inattention ;  just  as  he  neglected 
to  correct  the  statement  concerning  the  family  of  Thomson  the  poet, 
after  it  had  been  shown  to  be  erroneous. — M.] 


-fiT.  72]     LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  189 

'It  is  [probably]  certainly  the  noblest  version  of  poetry 
which  the  world  has  ever  seen. 

'Every  sheet  enabled  him  to  write  the  next  vrith  [less 
trouble]  more  facility, 

'  No  man  sympathises  with  [vanity  depressed]  the  sorrows 
of  vanity. 

'  It  had  been  [criminal]  less  easily  excused. 

'  When  he  [threatened  to  lay  down]  talked  of  laying  doion 
his  pen. 

'  Society  [is  so  named  emphatically  in  opposition  to],  politi- 
cally regulated,  is  a  state  contra-distinguished  from  a  state  of 
nature. 

'A  fictitious  life  of  an  [absurd]  infatuated  scholar. 

'A  foolish  [contempt,  disregard]  disesteem  of  Kings. 

'  His  hopes  and  fears,  his  joys  and  sorrows  [were  like  those 
of  other  mortals]  acted  strongly  upon  his  mind. 

'  Eager  to  pursue  knowledge  and  attentive  to  [accumulate] 
retain  it. 

'A  mind  [excursive]  active,  ambitious,  and  adventurous. 

'In  its  [noblest]  widest  searches  still  longing  to  go  forward 

'  He  wrote  in  such  a  maimer  as  might  expose  him  to  few 
[neglects]  hazards. 

'  The  [reasonableness]  justice  of  my  determination. 

'  A  [favourite]  delicious  employment  of  the  poets. 

'  More  terrific  and  more  powerful  [beings]  pha/ntoms  perform 
on  the  stormy  ocean. 

'  The  inventor  of  [those]  this  petty  [beings]  nation. 

'  The  [mind]  heart  naturally  loves  truth.' 

In  the  Life  of  Addison  we  find  an  unpleasing 
account  of  his  having  lent  Steele  a  hundred  pounds, 
and  '  reclaimed  his  loan  by  an  execution. '  In  the  new 
edition  of  the  Biographia  Britannica  the  authenticity  of 
this  anecdote  is  denied.  But  Mr.  Malone  has  obliged 
me  with  the  following  note  concerning  it : 

Many  persons  having  doubts  concerning  this  fact,  I  applied 
to  Dr.  Johnson,  to  learn  on  what  authority  he  asserted  it. 
He  told  me  he  had  it  from  Savage,  who  lived  in  intimacy  with 


190         LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1781 

Steele,  and  who  mentioned  that  Steele  told  him  the  story  with 
tears  in  his  eyes.  Ben  Victor,  Dr.  Johnson  said,  likewise 
informed  him  of  this  remarkable  transaction,  from  the  relation 
of  Mr.  Wilkes,  the  comedian,  who  was  also  an  intimate  of 
Steele's.  1  Some,  in  defence  of  Addison,  have  said  that  "the 
act  was  done  with  the  good-natured  view  of  rousing  Steele, 
and  correcting  that  profusion  which  always  made  him  neces- 
sitous." "If  that  were  the  case  (said  Johnson),  and  that  he 
only  wanted  to  alarm  Steele,  he  would  afterwards  have  re- 
turned the  money  to  his  friend,  which  it  is  not  pretended  he 
did."  ' '  This,  too  (he  added),  might  be  retorted  by  an  advocate 
for  Steele,  who  might  allege,  that  he  did  not  repay  the  loan 
intentionally,  merely  to  see  whether  Addison  would  be  mean 
and  ungenerous  enough  to  make  use  of  legal  process  to  recover 
it.  But  of  such  speculations  there  is  no  end  ;  we  cannot  dive 
into  the  hearts  of  men  ;  but  their  actions  are  open  to  obser- 
vation. 

'I  then  mentioned  to  him  that  some  people  thought  that 
Mr.  Addison's  character  was  so  pure,  that  the  fact,  though 
true,  ought  to  have  been  suppressed.  He  saw  no  reason  for 
this.  "  If  nothing  but  the  bright  side  of  characters  should  be 
shown,  we  should  sit  down  in  despondency,  and  think  it 
utterly  impossible  to  imitate  them  in  anything.  The  sacred 
writers  (he  observed)  related  the  vicious  as  well  as  the  virtuous 
actions  of  men;  which  had  this  moral  effect,  that  it  kept 
mankind  from  despair,  into  which  otherwise  they  would 
naturally  fall,  were  they  not  supported  by  the  recollection 
that  others  had  offended  like  themselves,  and  by  penitence 
and  amendment  of  life  had  been  restored  to  the  favour  of 
Heaven.  E.  M. 

'March  15,  1782.' 

The  last  paragraph  of  this  note  is  of  great  import- 
ance ;  and  I  request  that  my  readers  may  consider  it 
with  particular  attention.  It  will  be  afterwards  referred 
to  in  this  work. 

1  [The  late  Mr.  Burke  informed  me  in  1792  that  Lady  Dorothea 
Primrose,  who  died  at  a  great  age,  I  think  in  1768,  and  had  been 
well  acquainted  with  Steele,  told  him  the  same  story. — M.] 


JET.  72]     LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  191 

Various  Readings  in  the  Life  of  Addison 

'  [But  he  was  our  first  example]  He  was,  however,  one  of  our 
earliest  examples  of  correctness. 

'  And  [overlook]  despise  their  masters. 

'  His  instructions  were  such  as  the  [state]  character  of  his 
[own  time]  readers  made  [necessary]  proper. 

'His  purpose  was  to  [diffuse]  infuse  literary  curiosity  by 
gentle  and  unsuspected  conveyance  [among]  into  the  gay,  the 
idle,  and  the  wealthy. 

'  Framed  rather  for  those  that  [wish]  a/re  lea/ming  to  write. 

•Domestic  [manners]  scenes.' 

In  his  Life  of  Parnell,  I  wonder  th.it  Johnson 
omitted  to  insert  an  epitaph  which  he  had  long 
before  composed  for  that  amiable  man,  without  ever 
writing  it  down,  but  which  he  was  so  good  as,  at  my 
request,  to  dictate  to  me,  by  which  means  it  has  been 
been  preserved  : 

Eic  requiescit  Thomas  Pamdl,  S.T.P. 

*  Qui  sacerdos  pariter  et  poeta, 
XJtrasque  partes  ita  implevit, 
Ut  neque  sacerdoti  suavitas  poetse, 
Nee  poetse  sacerdotis  sanctitas,  deesset.' 

Various  Readings  in  the  Life  of  Parnell 

'  About  three  years  [after]  afterwards. 

•  [Did  not  much  want]  Was  in  no  great  need  of  improve* 
ment. 

'  But  his  prosperity  did  not  last  long  [was  clouded  with  that 
which  took  away  all  his  powers  of  enjoying  either  profit  or 
pleasure,  the  death  of  his  wife,  whom  he  is  said  to  have 
lamented  with  such  sorrow,  as  hastened  his  end. J  i  His  end, 
whatever  was  the  cause,  was  now  approaching. 

1  I  should  have  thought  that  Johnson,  who  had  felt  the  severe  affliction 
from  which  Parnell  never  recovered,  would  have  preserved  this  passage. 

[He  omitted  it,  doubtless,  because  he  afterwards  learned  that,  however 
be  might  have  lamented  bis  wife,  his  end  was  hastened  by  other 
means. — M.] 


192         LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1781 

•  In  the  Hermit,  the  [comjwsition]  narrative,  as  it  is  lesa 
aiiy,  is  less  pleasing.' 

In  the  Life  of  Blackmore  we  find  that  writer's 
reputation  generously  cleared  by  Johnson  from  the 
cloud  of  prejudice  which  the  malignity  of  contem- 
porary wits  have  raised  around  it.  In  this  spirited 
exertion  of  justice  he  has  been  imitated  by  Sir 
Joshua  Reynolds,  in  his  praise  of  the  architecture 
of  Vanbrugh. 

We  trace  Johnson's  own  character  in  his  observa- 
tions on  Blackmore's  'magnanimity  as  an  author* : 
*  The  incessant  attacks  of  his  enemies,  whether  serious 
or  merry,  are  never  discovered  to  have  disturbed  his 
quiet,  or  to  have  lessened  his  confidence  in  himself.' 
Johnson,  I  recollect,  once  told  me,  laughing  heartily, 
that  he  understood  it  had  been  said  of  him,  'He 
appears  not  to  feel :  but  when  he  is  alone,  depend 
upon  it,  he  suffers  sadly.'  I  am  as  certain  as  I  can  be 
of  any  man's  real  sentiments,  that  he  enjoyed  the 
perpetual  shower  of  little  hostile  arrows  as  evidences 
of  his  fame. 

Variotis  Readings  in  the  lAfe  of  Blackmore 

*To  [set]  engage  poetry  [on.  the  side]  in  the  cause  of  virtue. 
'He  likewise  [established]  enforced  the  truth  of  Revelation. 

*  [Kindness]  Benevolence  was  ashamed  to  favour. 

'  His  practice,  which  was  once  [very  extensive]  invidiously 
great. 

'There  is  scarcely  any  distemper  of  dreadful  name  [of] 
which  he  has  not  [shown]  taught  his  reader  how  [it  is  to  be 
opposed]  to  oppose. 

'  Of  this  [contemptuous]  indecent  arrogance. 

'  [He  wrote]  But  produced  likewise  a  work  of  a  diflferent 
kind. 


JET.  72]     LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  193 

'  At  least  [written]  compiled  with  integrity. 

'Faults  which  many  tongues  [were  desirous]  would  have 
made  haste  to  publish. 

'But  though  he  [had  not]  covZd  not  boast  of  much  critical 
knowledge. 

'  He  [used]  waited  for  no  felicities  of  fancy. 

'Or  had  ever  elated  his  [mind]  views,  bom  to  that  ideal 
perfection  which  every  [mind]  genius  born  to  excel  is  con- 
demned always  to  pursue  and  never  overtake. 

'  The  [first  great]  fundamiental  principle  of  wisdom  and  of 
virtue.' 

Various  Readings  in  the  lAfe  of  Phillips 

*  His  dreadful  [rival]  antagonist  Pope. 

'  They  [have  not  often  much]  are  not  loaded  with  thought. 

'  In  his  translation  from  Pindar,  he  [will  not  be  denied  to 
have  reached]  found  the  art  of  reaching  all  the  obscurity  of 
the  Theban  bard.' 

Various  Readings  in  the  Life  of  Congreve 

'Congreve's  conversation  must  surely  have  been  at  least 
equally  pleasing  with  his  writings. 

'  It  apparently  [requires]  presupposes  a  familiar  knowledge 
of  many  characters. 

'  Reciprocation  of  [similes]  conceits. 

'  The  dialogue  is  quick  and  [various]  sparkling. 

'Love  for  love  ;  a  comedy  [more  drawn  from  life]  of  nearer 
eUliance  to  life. 

'  The  general  character  of  his  Miscellanies  is,  that  they  show 
little  wit  and  [no]  little  virtue. 

'  [Perhaps]  Certainly  he  had  not  the  fire  requisite  for  the 
higher  species  of  lyric  poetry.' 

Various  Readings  in  the  Life  of  Tickell 

'  [Longed]  Long  wished  to  peruse  it. 
'  At  the  [  accession]  arrival  of  King  George. 
'  Fiction  [unnaturally]  unskilfully  compounded  of  Grecian 
deities  and  Gothic  faiiies.' 

vo\..    V.  N 


194         LIFE    OF   DR    JOHNSON        [1781 

Various  Readings  in  the  Life  of  Akenside 

'  For  [another]  a  different  purpose. 

'  [A  furious]  An  unnecessary  and  outrageous  zeal. 

'  [Something  which]  What  he  called  and  thought  liberty. 

'  A  [favourer  of  innovation]  lover  of  contradictum. 

'  Warburton's  [censure]  objections. 

'  His  rage  [for  liberty]  of  patriotism. 

']\Ir.  Dyson  with  a  [zeal]  an  ardov/r  of  friendship.' 

In  the  Life  of  Lyttelton  Johnson  seems  to  have 
been  not  favourably  disposed  towards  that  nobleman. 
Mrs.  Thrale  suggests  that  he  was  offended  by  Molly 
Aston's  preference  of  his  Lordship  to  him.^  I  can  by 
no  means  join  in  the  censure  bestowed  by  Johnson  on 


1  Let  not  my  readers  smile  to  think  of  Johnson's  being  a  candidate 
for  female  favour.  Mr.  Peter  Garrick  assured  me  that  he  was  told  by 
a  lady  that  in  her  opinion  Johnson  was  'a  very  seducing-  man.' 
Disadvantages  of  person  and  manner  may  be  forgotten  where  intel- 
lectual pleasure  is  communicated  to  a  susceptible  mind  ;  and  that 
Johnson  was  capable  of  feeling  the  most  delicate  and  disinterested 
attachment  appears  from  the  following  letter,  which  is  published  by 
Mrs.  Thrale,  with  some  others  to  the  same  person,  of  which  the  ex- 
cellence is  not  so  apparent : 

TO   MISS   BOOTHBV 

'January  1775. 
'  Dearest  Madam, — Though  I  am  afraid  your  illness  leaves  you 
little  leisure  for  the  reception  of  airy  civilities,  yet  I  cannot  forbear  to 
pay  you  my  congratulations  on  the  new  year,  and  to  declare  my  wishes 
that  your  years  to  come  may  be  many  and  happy.  In  this  wish,  indeed, 
I  include  myself,  who  have  none  but  you  on  whom  my  heart  reposes  ; 
yet  surely  I  wish  your  good,  even  though  your  situation  were  such  as 
should  permit  you  to  communicate  no  gratifications  to,  dearest,  dearest 
madam,  your,  etc.,  Sam.  Johnson.' 

[There  is  still  a  slight  mistake  in  the  text.  It  was  not  Molly  Aston, 
but  Hill  Boothby,  for  whose  affections  Johnson  and  Lord  Lyttelton 
were  rival  candidates.  See  Mrs.  Piozzi's  Anecdotes.  After  men- 
tioning the  death  of  Mrs.  Fitzherbert  (who  was  a  daughter  of  Mr. 
Meynel  of  Bradley  in  Derbyshire)  and  Johnson's  high  admiration  of 
her,  she  adds,  '  The  friend  of  this  lady.  Miss  Boothby,  succeeded  her  in 
the  management  of  Mr.  Fitzherbert's  family  and  in  the  esteem  of  Dr. 
Johnson  :  though  he  told  me  she  pushed  her  piety  to  bigstry,  her 
devotion  to  enthusiasm ;  that  she  somewhat  disqualified  herself  for  the 
duties  of  this  life  by  her  perpetual  aspirations  after  the  next ;  such  was, 
however,  the  purity  of  her  mind,  he  said,  and  such  the  graces  of  her 
«Daiuier,  that  Lord  Lyttelton  and  he  used  to  strive  for  her  preference 


JET.  72]    LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  195 

his  Lordship,  whom  he  calls  'poor  Lyttelton/  for 
returning  thanks  to  the  Critical  Reviewers  for  having 
*  kindly  recommended'  his  Dialogues  of  the  Dead. 
Such  'acknowledgments  (says  my  friend)  never  can 
be  proper,  since  they  must  be  paid  either  for  flattery 
or  for  justice.*  In  my  opinion  the  most  upright  man, 
who  has  been  tried  on  a  false  accusation,  may,  when 
he  is  acquitted,  make  a  bow  to  his  jury.  And  when 
those  who  are  so  much  the  arbiters  of  literary  merit, 
as  in  a  considerable  degree  to  influence  the  public 
opinion,  review  an  author's  work  placido  lumine,  when 
I  am  afraid  mankind  in  general  are  better  pleased 
with  severity,  he  may  surely  express  a  grateful  sense 
of  their  civilitv. 


with  an  emulation  that  occasioned  hourly  disgust  and  ended  in  lasting 
animosity.  You  may  see  (said  he  to  me,  when  the  Poets'  Lives  were 
printed)  that  dear  Boothby  is  at  my  heart  still.' 

Miss  Hill  Boothby,  who  was  the  only  daughter  of  Brook  Boothby, 
Esq.,  and  his  wife,  Elizabeth  Fitzherbert,  was  somewhat  older  than 
Johnson.  She  was  born  October  27,  1708,  and  died  January  i6,  1756. 
Six  letters  addressed  to  her  by  Johnson  in  the  year  1755  are  printed  in 
Mrs.  Piozzi's  collection ;  and  a  prayer  composed  by  him  on  her  death 
may  be  found  in  his  Prayers  and  Meditations.  His  affection  for  her 
induced  him  to  preserve  and  bind  up  in  a  volume  thirty-three  of  her 
letters,  which  were  purchased  from  the  widow  of  his  servant,  Francis 
Barber,  and  published  by  R.  Phillips  in  1805. 

But  highly  as  he  valued  this  lady,  his  attachment  to  Miss  Molly 
Aston  (afterwards  Mrs.  Brodie)  appears  to  have  been  still  more  ardent. 
He  burned  (says  Mrs.  Piozzi)  many  letters  in  the  last  week  [of  his  life], 
I  am  told,  and  those  written  by  his  mother  drew  from  him  a  flood  of 
tears  when  the  paper  they  were  written  on  was  all  consumed.  Mr. 
Sastres  saw  him  cast  a  melancholy  look  upon  their  ashes,  which  he 
took  up  and  examined,  to  see  if  a  word  was  still  legible.  Nobody  has 
ever  mentioned  what  became  of  Miss  Aston's  letters,  though  he  once 
told  me  himself  they  should  be  the  last  papers  he  would  destroy,  and 
added  these  lines  with  a  very  faltering  voice  : 

'  Then  from  his  closing  eyes  thy  form  shall  part. 
And  the  last  pang  shall  tear  thee  from  bis  heart : 
Life's  idle  business  at  one  gasp  be  o'er, 
The  muse  forgot,  and  thou  beloved  no  more.' 

Additions  to  Mrs.  Piozzi's  Collection  of  Dr.  Johnson's  Letters.— M.] 


196         LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1781 

Various  Readings  in  the  Life  of  Lyttelton 

'He  solaced  [himself]  his  grief  by  writing  a  long  poem  to 
her  memory. 

'  The  production  rather  [of  a  mind  that  means  well  than 
thinks  vigorously]  as  it  seems  of  leisure  than  of  study,  rather 
fusions  than  cOTnpositions. 

'  His  last  literary  [work]  production. 

*  [Found  the  way]  Undertook  to  persuade.' 

As  the  introduction  to  his  critical  examination  of 
the  genius  and  writings  of  Young,  he  did  Mr,  Herbert 
Croft,  then  a  Barrister  of  Lincoln's  Inn,  now  a  clergy- 
man, the  honour  to  adopt  a  Life  of  Young  written  by 
that  gentleman,  who  was  the  friend  of  Dr.  Young's 
son,  and  wished  to  vindicate  him  from  some  very 
erroneous  remarks  to  his  prejudice.  Mr.  Croft's 
performance  was  subjected  to  the  revision  of  Dr. 
Johnson,  as  appears  from  the  following  note  to  Mr. 
John  Nichols :  ^ 

'This  Life  of  Dr.  Yowng  was  written  by  a  friend  of  his  son. 
What  is  crossed  with  black  is  expunged  by  the  author,  what 
is  crossed  by  red  is  expunged  by  me.  If  you  find  anything 
more  that  can  be  weU  omitted,  I  shall  not  be  sorry  to  see  it 
yet  shorter.' 

It  has  always  appeared  to  me  to  have  a  consider- 
able share  of  merit,  and  to  display  a  pretty  successful 
imitation  of  Johnson's  style.  When  I  mentioned 
this  to  a  very  eminent  literary  character,^  he  opposed 
me  vehemently,  exclaiming,  '  No,  no,  it  is  not  a  good 
imitation  of  Johnson  ;  it  has  all  his  pomp  without  his 
force ;  it  has  all  the  nodosities  of  the  oak  without  its 
strength.'     This  was  an  image  so  happy,   that  one 

1  Gentleman  s  Magazine,  vol.  iv.  p.  lo. 
«  [The  late  Mr.  Burke.— M.] 


/ET.  72]    LIFE    OF   DB,    JOHNSON         197 

miglit  have  thought  he  would  have  been  satisfied  with 
it ;  but  he  was  not.  And  setting  his  mind  again  to 
work,  he  added,  with  exquisite  felicity,  '  It  has  all  the 
contortions  of  the  Sibyl,  without  the  inspiration.' 

Mr.  Croft  very  properly  guards  us  against  supposing 
that  Young  was  a  gloomy  man ;  and  mentions  that 
'  his  parish  was  indebted  to  the  good-humour  of  the 
author  of  the  Night  Thoughts  for  an  assembly  and  a 
bowling-green.'  A  letter  from  a  noble  foreigner  is 
quoted,  in  which  he  is  said  to  have  been  '  very  pleasant 
in  conversation.' 

Mr.  Langton,  who  frequently  visited  him,  informs 
me  that  there  was  an  air  of  benevolence  in  his  manner, 
but  that  he  could  obtain  from  him  less  information 
than  he  had  hoped  to  receive  from  one  who  had  lived 
so  much  in  intercourse  with  the  brightest  men  of  what 
has  been  called  the  Augustan  age  of  England ;  and 
that  he  showed  a  degree  of  eager  curiosity  concerning 
the  common  occurrences  that  were  then  passing, 
which  appeared  somewhat  remarkable  in  a  man  of 
such  intellectual  stores,  of  such  an  advanced  age,  and 
who  had  retired  from  life  with  declared  disappoint- 
ment in  his  expectations. 

An  instance  at  once  of  his  pensive  turn  of  mind, 
and  his  cheerfulness  of  temper,  appeared  in  a  little 
gtory  which  he  himself  told  to  Mr.  Langton,  when 
they  were  walking  in  his  garden  :  '  Here  (said  he)  I 
had  put  a  handsome  sun-dial,  with  this  inscription, 
Eheufugaces!  which  (speaking  with  a  smile)  was  sadly 
verified,  for  by  the  next  morning  my  dial  had  been 
carried  off.'  ^ 


1  The  late  Mr.  Tames  Ralph  told  Lord  Macartney  that  he  passed  an 
evening  with  Dr.  Young  at  Lord  Melcombe's  (then  Mr.  Doddington) 


198  LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON        [1781 

It  gives  me  much  pleasure  to  observe  that  however 
Johnson  may  have  casually  talked,  yet  when  he  sits 
as  'an  ardent  judge  zealous  to  his  trust,  giving  sen- 
tence '  upon  the  excellent  works  of  Young,  he  allows 
them  the  high  praise  to  which  they  are  justly  entitled. 
'The  Universal  Passion  (says  he)  is  indeed  a  very 
great  performance, — his  distichs  have  the  weight  of 
solid  sentiment,  and  his  points  the  sharpness  of  resist- 
less truth.' 

But  I  was  most  anxious  concerning  Johnson's 
decision  upon  Night  Thoughts,  which  I  esteem  as  a 
mass  of  the  grandest  and  richest  poetry  that  human 
genius  has  ever  produced  :  and  was  delighted  to  find 
this  character  of  that  work :  '  In  his  Night  Thoughts 
he  has  exhibited  a  very  wide  display  of  original  poetry, 
variegated  with  deep  reflection  and  striking  allusions : 
a  wilderness  of  thought,  in  which  the  fertility  of  fancy 
scatters  flowers  of  every  hue  and  of  every  odour. 
This  is  one  of  the  few  poems  in  which  blank  verse 
could  not  be  changed  for  rhyme  but  with  disadvan- 
tage.' And  afterwards,  'Particular  lines  are  not  to 
be  regarded ;  the  power  is  in  the  whole ;  and  in  the 
whole  there  is  a  magnificence  like  that  ascribed  to 
Chinese  plantation,  the  magnificence  of  vast  extent 
and  endless  diversity.' 

But  there  is  in  this  poem  not  only  all  that  Johnson 
80  well  brings  in  view,  but  a  power  of  the  pathetic 
beyond  almost  any  example  that  I  have  seen.  He 
who  does  not  feel  his  nerves  shaken,  and  his  heart 


at  Hammersmith.  The  Doctor  happening  to  go  out  into  the  garden, 
Mr.  Doddington  observed  to  him,  on  his  return,  that  it  was  a 
dreadful  night,  as  in  truth  it  was,  there  being  a  violent  storm  of  rain 
»nd  wind.  '  No,  sir  (replied  the  Doctor),  it  is  a  very  fine  night.  The 
Lord  is  abroad.' 


iET.  72]     LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  199 

pierced,  by  many  passages  in  this  extraordinary  work, 
particularly  by  that  most  aflfecting  one,  which  describes 
the  gradual  torment  suffered  by  the  contemplation  of 
an  object  of  affectionate  attachment  visibly  and  cer- 
tainly decaying  into  dissolution,  must  be  of  a  hard 
and  obstinate  frame. 

To  all  the  other  excellencies  of  Night  Thoughts  let 
me  add  the  great  and  peculiar  one,  that  they  contain 
not  only  the  noblest  sentiments  of  virtue,  and 
contemplations  on  immortality,  but  the  Christian 
Sacrifice,  the  Divine  Propitiation,  with  all  its  interest- 
ing circumstances,  and  consolations  to  'a  wounded 
spirit,'  solemnly  and  poetically  displayed  in  such 
imagery  and  language,  as  cannot  fail  to  exalt,  animate, 
and  soothe  the  truly  pious.  No  book  whatever  can 
be  recommended  to  young  persons,  with  better  hopes 
of  seasoning  their  minds  with  vital  religion,  than 
Young's  Night  Thoughts. 

In  the  Life  of  Swift  it  appears  to  me  that  Johnson 
had  a  certain  degree  of  prejudice  against  that  extra- 
ordinary man,  of  which  I  have  elsewhere  had  occasion 
to  speak.  Mr.  Thomas  Sheridan  imputed  it  to  a  sup- 
posed apprehension  in  Johnson  that  Swift  had  not 
been  suflBciently  active  in  obtaining  for  him  an  Irish 
degree  when  it  was  solicited,^  but  of  this  there  was 
not  sufficient  evidence ;  and  let  me  not  presume  to 
charge  Johnson  with  injustice,  because  he  did  not 
think  so  highly  of  the  writings  of  this  author,  as  I 
have  done  from  my  youth  upwards.  Yet  that  he  had 
an  unfavourable  bias  is  evident,  were  it  only  from 
that  passage  in  which  he  speaks  of  Swift's  practice  of 

1  See  vol.  i.  p.  98. 


200  LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON        [1781 

saving  as  '  first  ridiculous  and  at  last  detestable,'  and 
yet  after  some  examination  of  circumstances,  finds 
himself  obliged  to  own  that  'it  will  perhaps  appear 
that  he  only  liked  one  mode  of  expense  better  than 
another,  and  saved  merely  that  he  might  have  some- 
thing to  give.' 

One  observation  which  Johnson  makes  in  Swift's 
Life  should  be  often  inculcated  : 

'  It  may  be  justly  supposed  that  there  was  in  his  conversa- 
tion what  appears  so  frequently  in  his  letters,  an  affectation 
of  familiarity  with  the  great,  an  ambition  of  momentary 
equality,  sought  and  enjoyed  by  the  neglect  of  those  cere- 
monies which  custom  has  established  as  the  barriers  between 
one  order  of  society  and  another.  This  transgression  of 
regularity  was  by  himself  and  his  admirers  termed  greatness 
of  soul;  but  a  great  mind  disdains  to  hold  anything  by 
courtesy,  and  therefore  never  usurps  what  a  lawful  claimant 
may  take  away.  He  that  encroaches  on  another's  dignity 
puts  himself  in  his  power  ;  he  is  either  repelled  with  helpless 
indignity  or  endured  by  clemency  and  condescension.' 

Variotis  Readings  in  the  Life  o/Svn/l 

'  Charity  may  be  persuaded  to  think  that  it  might  be  written 
by  a  man  of  a  peculiar  [opinions]  character,  without  ill 
intention. 

'  He  did  not  [disown]  deny  it. 

'[To]  By  whose  kindness  it  is  not  unlikely  that  he  vrtm 
[indebted  for]  advanced  to  his  benefices. 

'  [With]  For  this  purpose  he  had  recourse  to  Mr.  Harlej'. 

'Sharpe,  whom  he  [represents]  describes  &s  "the  harmless 
tool  of  others'  hate." 

'  Harley  was  slow  because  he  was  [irresolute]  doubtful, 

'  When  [readers  were  not  many]  we  were  not  yet  a  nation  of 
readers. 

'  [Every  man  who]  He  that  covZd  say  he  knew  him. 

'Every  man  of  known  influence  has  so  many  [more]  peti- 


>ET.  72]     LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  201 

tions  [than]  which  he  [can]  cannot  grant,  that  he  must  neces- 
sarily offend  more  than  he  [can  gratify]  gratifies. 

'  Ecclesiastical  [preferments]  benefices. 
Swift  [procured]  contrived  an  interview. 

'[As  a  writer]  In  his  works  he  has  given  very  different 
specimens. 

'On  all  common  occasions  he  habitually  [assiunes]  affects 
a  style  of  [superiority]  arroga/nce. 

'  By  the  [omission]  neglect  of  those  ceremonies. 

'  That  their  merits  filled  the  world  [and]  or  that  there  was 
no  [room  for]  hope  of  more.' 

I  have  not  confined  myself  to  the  order  of  the  Lives 
in  making  my  few  remarks.  Indeed,  a  different  order 
is  observed  in  the  original  publication,  and  in  the 
collection  of  Johnson's  Works.  And  should  it  be 
objected  that  many  of  my  various  readings  are  incon- 
siderable, those  who  make  an  objection  will  be  pleased 
to  consider  that  such  small  particulars  are  intended 
for  those  who  are  nicely  critical  in  composition,  to 
whom  they  will  be  an  acceptable  selection. 

Spence's  Anecdotes,  which  are  frequently  quoted  and 
referred  to  in  Johnson's  Lives  of  the  Poets,  are  in  a 
manuscriptcollection,madebythe  Reverend  Mr.  Joseph 
Spence,*  containing  a  number  of  particulars  concern- 
ing eminent  men.  To  each  anecdote  is  marked  the 
name  of  the  person  on  whose  authority  it  is  mentioned. 
This  valuable  collection  is  the  property  of  the  Duke 
of  Newcastle,  who,  upon  the  application  of  Sir  Lucas 
Pepys,  was  pleased  to  permit  it  to  be  put  into  the 
hands  of  Dr.  Johnson,  who  I  am  sorry  to  think  made 
but  an  awkward  return.     '  Great  assistance  (says  he) 

1  [The  Rev.  Joseph  Spence,  A.M.,  rector  of  Great  Harwood  in 
Buckinghamshire,  and  Prebendary  of  Durham,  died  at  Byfleet  in 
Surrey,  August  20,  1768.  He  was  a  Fellow  of  New  Collejje,  in  Oxford, 
and  held  the  office  of  Professor  of  Poetry  in  that  University  from  1728 
to  1738.— M.] 


202  LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1781 

has  been  given  me  by  Mr.  Spence's  collection,  of 
which  I  consider  the  communication  as  a  favour 
worthy  of  public  acknowledgment';  but  he  has  not 
owned  to  whom  he  was  obliged  ;  so  that  the  acknow- 
ledgment is  unappropriated  to  his  Grace. 

While  the  world  in  general  was  filled  with  admira- 
tion of  Johnson's  Lives  of  the  Poets,  there  were  narrow 
circles  in  which  prejudice  and  resentment  were  fos- 
tered, and  from  which  attacks  of  different  sorts 
issued  against  him.^  By  some  violent  Whigs  he  was 
arraigned  of  injustice  to  Milton  ;  by  some  Cambridge 
men  of  depreciating  Gray ;  and  his  expressing  with  a 
dignified  freedom  what  he  really  thought  of  George, 
Lord  Lyttelton,  gave  offence  to  some  of  the  friends  of 
that  nobleman,  and  particularly  produced  a  declara- 
tion of  war  against  him  from  Mrs.  Montagu,  the 
ingenious  essayist  on  Shakespeare,  between  whom  and 
his  Lordship  a  commerce  of  reciprocal  compliments 
had  long  been  carried  on.  In  this  war  the  smallest 
powers  in  alliance  with  him  were  of  course  led  to 
engage,  at  least  on  the  defensive,  and  thus  I  for  one 
was  excluded  from  the  enjoyment  of  'A  Feast  for 
Reason,'  such  as  Mr.  Cumberland  has  described,  with 
a  keen,  yet  just  and  delicate  pen,  in  his  Observer. 
These  minute  inconveniences  gave  not  the  least  dis- 
turbance to  Johnson.  He  nobly  said,  when  I  talked 
to  him  of  the  feeble,  though  shrill  outcry  which  had 
been  raised,   'Sir,  I  considered  myself  as  intrusted 


1  From  this  disreputable  class,  I  except  an  ingenious,  though  not 
satisfactory,  defence  of  Hammond,  which  I  did  not  see  till  lately,  by 
the  favour  of  its  author,  my  amiable  friend,  the  Reverend  Mr.  Bevilf, 
who  published  it  without  his  name.  It  is  a  juvenile  performance,  but 
elegantly  written,  with  classical  enthusiasm  of  sentiment,  and  yet  with 
a  becoming  modesty,  and  great  respect  for  Dr.  Johnson. 


MT.72]    LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON  203 

with  a  certain  portion  of  truth.  I  have  given  my 
opinion  sincerely ;  let  them  show  me  where  they  think 
me  wrong.' 

While  my  friend  is  thus  contemplated  in  the 
splendour  derived  from  his  last  and  perhaps  most 
admirable  work^  I  introduce  him  with  peculiar  pro- 
priety as  the  correspondent  of  Warren  Hastings — 
a  man  whose  regard  reflects  dignity  even  upon 
Johnson;  a  man,  the  extent  of  whose  abilities  was 
equal  to  that  of  his  power ;  and  who,  by  those  who 
pre  fortunate  enough  to  know  him  in  private  life, 
is  admired  for  his  literature  and  taste,  and  beloved 
for  the  candour,  moderation,  and  mildness  of  his 
character.  Were  I  capable  of  paying  a  suitable 
tribute  of  admiration  to  him,  I  should  certainly 
not  withhold  it  at  a  moment^  when  it  is  not  pos- 
sible that  I  should  be  suspected  of  being  an  interested 
flatterer.  But  how  weak  would  be  my  voice  after 
that  of  the  millions  whom  he  governed !  His  con- 
descending and  obliging  compliance  with  my  solicita- 
tion I  with  humble  gratitude  acknowledge  ;  and  while 
by  publishing  his  letter  to  me,  accompanying  the 
valuable  communication,  I  do  eminent  honour  to 
my  great  friend,  I  shall  entirely  disregard  any 
invidious  suggestions,  that  as  I  in  some  degree  par- 
ticipate in  the  honour,  I  have,  at  the  same  time, 
the  gratification  of  my  own  vanity  in  view. 

TO   JAMES    BOSWELL,  ESQ. 

'Park  Lane,  Deo.  2, 1790. 
'  Sib, — I    have  been  fortunately  spared  the  troublesome 
suspense  of  a  long  search,  to  which,  in  performance  of  my 

1  January  1791. 


204         LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1781 

promise,  I  had  devoted  this  morning,  by  lighting  upon  the 
objects  of  it  among  the  first  papers  that  I  laid  my  hands 
on:  my  veneration  for  your  great  and  good  friend,  Dr. 
Johnson,  and  the  pride,  or  I  hope  something  of  a  better  senti- 
ment, which  I  indulge  in  possessing  such  memorials  of  his 
good-will  towards  me,  having  induced  me  to  bind  them  in  a 
parcel  containing  other  select  papers,  and  labelled  with  the 
titles  appertaining  to  them.  They  consist  but  of  three  letters, 
which  I  believe  were  all  that  I  ever  received  from  Dr.  John- 
son. Of  these,  one,  which  was  written  in  quadruplicate, 
vmder  the  different  dates  of  its  respective  despatches,  has 
already  been  made  public,  but  not  from  any  communication 
of  mine.  This,  however,  I  have  joined  to  the  rest ;  and  have 
now  the  pleasure  of  sending  them  to  you  for  the  use  to  which 
you  informed  me  it  was  your  desire  to  destine  them. 

'My  promise  was  pledged  with  the  condition,  that  if  the 
letters  were  found  to  contain  anything  which  should  render 
them  improper  for  the  public  eye,  you  would  dispense  with 
the  performance  of  it.  You  will  have  the  goodness,  I  am 
sure,  to  pardon  my  recalling  this  stipulation  to  your  recol- 
lection, as  I  shall  be  loath  to  appear  negligent  of  that  obliga- 
tion which  is  always  implied  in  an  epistolary  confidence.  In 
the  reservation  of  that  right  I  have  read  them  over  with  the 
most  scrupulous  attention,  but  have  not  seen  in  them  the 
slightest  cause  on  that  ground  to  withhold  them  from  you. 
But,  though  not  on  that,  yet  on  another  ground  I  own  I  feel 
a  little,  yet  but  a  little,  reluctance  to  part  with  them ;  I  mean 
on  that  of  my  own  credit,  which  I  fear  will  suffer  by  the  in- 
formation conveyed  by  them,  that  I  was  early  in  the  posses- 
sion of  such  valuable  instructions  for  the  beneficial  employ- 
ment of  the  influence  of  my  late  station,  and  (as  it  may 
seem)  have  so  little  availed  myself  of  them.  Whether  I 
could,  if  it  were  necessary,  defend  myself  against  such  an 
imputation,  it  little  concerns  the  world  to  know.  I  look  only 
to  the  effect  which  these  relics  may  produce,  considered  as 
evidences  of  the  virtues  of  their  author :  and  believing  that 
they  will  be  found  to  display  an  uncommon  warmth  of  private 
friendship,  and  a  mind  ever  attentive  to  the  improvement  and 
extension  of  useful  knowledge,  and  solicitous  for  the  interests 
of  mankind,  I  can  cheerfully  submit  to  the  little  sacrifice  of 


iET.  72]    LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  205 

my  own  fame,  to  contribute  to  the  illustration  of  so  great  and 
venerable  a  character.  They  cannot  be  better  applied,  for 
that  end,  than  by  being  intrusted  to  your  hands.  Allow  me, 
with  this  offering,  to  infer  from  it  a  proof  of  the  very  great 
esteem  with  which  I  have  the  honour  to  profess  myself,  sir, 
your  most  obedient  and  most  humble  servant, 

'  Wabren  Hastinos.* 

'  P.S. — At  some  future  time,  and  when  you  have  no  further 
occasion  for  these  papers,  I  shall  be  obliged  to  you  if  you  will 
return  them.' 

The  last  of  the  three  letters  thus  graciously  put 
into  my  hands,  and  which  has  already  appeared  in 
public,  belongs  to  this  year;  but  I  shall  previously 
insert  the  first  two  in  the  order  of  their  dates.  They 
altogether  form  a  grand  group  in  my  biographical 
picture. 

TO  THE  HONOURABLE   WARREN   HASTINGS,  ESQ. 

*SiB, — Though  I  have  had  but  little  personal  knowledge  of 
you,  I  have  had  enough  to  make  me  wish  for  more;  and 
though  it  be  now  a  long  time  since  I  was  honoured  by  your 
visit,  I  had  too  much  pleasure  from  it  to  forget  it.  By  those 
whom  we  delight  to  remember,  we  are  unwilling  to  be  for- 
gotten ;  and  therefore  I  cannot  omit  this  opportunity  of 
reviving  mj'self  in  your  memory  by  a  letter  which  you  will 
receive  from  the  hands  of  my  friend  Mr,  Chambers ;  ^  a  man 
whose  purity  of  manners  and  vigour  of  mind  are  sufficient  to 
make  everything  welcome  that  he  brings. 

'  That  this  is  my  only  reason  for  writing,  will  be  too  appar- 
ent by  the  uselessness  of  my  letter  to  any  other  purpose.  I 
have  no  questions  to  ask;  not  that  I  want  curiosity  after 
either  the  ancient  or  present  state  of  religions,  in  which  have 
been  seen  all  the  power  and  splendour  of  wide-extended 
empire ;  and  which,  as  by  some  grant  of  natural  superiority, 
supply  the  rest  of  the  world  with  almost  all  that  pride  desires, 


1  Afterwards  Sir  Robert  Chambers,  one  of  his  Majesty's  Judges  ii» 
India. 


206         LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1781 

and  luxury  enjoys.  But  my  knowledge  of  them  is  too  scanty 
to  fvumish  me  with  proper  topics  of  inquiry ;  I  can  only  wish 
for  information ;  and  hope,  that  a  mind  comprehensive  like 
yours  will  find  leisure  amidst  the  cares  of  your  important 
station,  to  inquire  into  many  subjects  of  which  the  European 
world  either  thinks  not  at  all,  or  thinks  with  deficient  intelli- 
gence and  uncertain  conjecture.  I  shall  hope,  that  he  who 
once  intended  to  increase  the  learning  of  his  country  by  the 
introduction  of  the  Persian  language,  will  examine  nicely  the 
traditions  and  histories  of  the  East ;  that  he  will  survey  the 
wonders  of  its  ancient  edifices,  and  trace  the  vestiges  of  its 
ruined  cities  ;  and  that,  at  his  return,  we  shall  know  the  arts 
and  opinions  of  a  race  of  men,  from  whom  very  little  has  been 
hitherto  derived. 

'  You,  sir,  have  no  need  of  being  told  by  me,  how  much  may 
be  added  by  your  attention  and  patronage  to  experimental 
knowledge  and  natural  history.  There  are  arts  of  manu- 
facture practised  in  the  countries  in  which  you  preside,  which 
are  yet  very  imperfectly  known  here,  either  to  artificers  or 
philosophers.  Of  the  natural  productions,  animate  and  in- 
animate, we  yet  have  so  little  intelligence,  that  our  books  are 
filled,  I  fear,  with  conjectures  about  things  which  an  Indian 
peasant  knows  by  his  senses. 

'  Many  of  those  things  my  first  wish  is  to  see  ;  my  second 
to  know,  by  such  accounts  as  a  man  like  you  will  be  able  to 
give. 

*As  I  have  not  skill  to  ask  proper  questions,  I  have  likewise 
no  such  access  to  great  men  as  can  enable  me  to  send  you  any 
political  information.  Of  the  agitations  of  an  unsettled 
government,  and  the  struggles  of  a  feeble  ministry,  care  is 
doubtless  taken  to  give  you  more  exact  accoxmts  than  I  can 
■obtain.  If  you  are  inclined  to  interest  yourself  much  in 
public  transactions,  it  is  no  misfortune  to  you  to  be  distant 
from  them. 

'  That  literature  is  not  totally  forsaking  us,  and  that  your 
favourite  language  is  not  neglected,  will  appear  from  the 
book,i  which  I  should  have  pleased  myself  more  with  send- 
ing, if  I  could  have  presented  it  bound :  but  time  was  want- 

1  Jones's  Persian  Grammar. 


^T.  72]     LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON  207 

ing.  I  beg,  however,  sir,  that  you  will  accept  it  from  a  man 
very  desirous  of  your  regard ;  and  that  if  you  think  me  able  to 
gratify  you  by  anything  more  important  you  will  employ  me. 

'  I  am  now  going  to  take  leave,  perhaps  a  very  long  leave, 
of  my  dear  Mr.  Chambers.  That  he  is  going  to  live  where  you 
govern,  may  justly  alleviate  the  regard  of  parting;  and  the 
hope  of  seeing  both  him  and  you  again,  which  I  am  not 
willing  to  mingle  with  doubt,  must  at  present,  comfort  as  it 
can,  sir,  your  most  humble  servant,  Sam.  Johnson. 

'March.  20,  1774.' 

TO    THE   HON.    WABREN    HASTINGS,    ESQ. 

'Sib, — Being  informed  that,  by  the  departure  of  a  ship, 
there  is  now  an  opportunity  of  writing  to  Bengal,  I  am  un- 
willing to  slip  out  of  your  memory  by  my  own  negligence, 
and  therefore  take  the  liberty  of  reminding  you  of  my  exist- 
ence, by  sending  you  a  book  which  is  not  yet  made  public. 

'  I  have  lately  visited  a  region  less  remote,  and  less  illus- 
trious than  India,  which  afforded  some  occasions  for  specula- 
tion ;  what  has  occurred  to  me  I  have  put  into  the  volume,  i 
of  which  I  beg  your  acceptance. 

'  Men  in  your  station  seldom  have  presents  totally  disinter- 
ested ;  my  book  is  received,  let  me  now  make  my  request. 

'  There  is,  sir,  somewhere  within  your  government,  a  young 
adventurer,  one  Chauncey  Lawrence,  whose  father  is  one  of  my 
oldest  friends.  Be  pleased  to  show  the  young  man  what 
countenance  is  fit,  whether  he  wants  to  be  restrained  by  your 
authority,  or  encouraged  by  your  favour.  His  father  is  now 
President  of  the  College  of  Physicians,  a  man  venerable  for 
his  knowledge,  and  more  venerable  for  his  virtue. 

'  I  wish  you  a  prosperous  government,  a  safe  return,  and  a 
long  enjoyment  of  plenty  and  tranquillity. — I  am,  sir,  your 
most  obedient  and  most  humble  servant,         Sam.  Johnson, 

'London,  Dec.  20,  1774.' 

TO    THE   SAJME 

'Jem.  9,  1781. 
'Sib, — Amidst  the  importance  and  multiplicity  of  affairs 
in  which  your  great  office  engages  you,  I  take  the  liberty  of 

J  Journey  to  the  Western  Islands  of  Scotland. 


208  LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1781 

recalling  your  attention  for  a  moment  to  literature,  and  will 
not  prolong  the  interruption  by  an  apology  which  your  char- 
acter makes  needless. 

'  Mr.  Hoole,  a  gentleman  long  known,  and  long  esteemed  in 
the  India  House,  after  having  translated  Tasso,  has  under- 
taken Ariosto.  How  well  he  is  qualified  for  his  imdertaking 
he  has  already  shown.  He  is  desirous,  sir,  of  your  favour  in 
promoting  his  proposals,  and  flatters  me  by  supposing  that 
my  testimony  may  advance  his  interest. 

'It  is  a  new  thing  for  a  clerk  of  the  India  House  to  trans- 
late poets ; — it  is  new  for  a  Governor  of  Bengal  to  patronise 
learning.  That  he  may  find  his  ingenuity  rewarded,  and 
that  learning  may  flourish  under  your  protection,  is  the  wish 
of,  sir,  your  most  humble  servant,  Sam.  Johnson.' 

I  wrote  to  him  in  February,  complaining  of  having 
been  troubled  by  a  recurrence  of  the  perplexing  ques- 
tion of  Liberty  and  Necessity  ; — and  mentioning  that 
I  hoped  soon  to  meet  him  again  in  London. 

TO   JAMES    BOSWELL,  ESQ. 

'Dear  Sib, — I  hoped  you  had  got  rid  of  all  this  hypocrisy 
of  misery.  What  have  you  to  do  with  Liberty  and  Neces- 
sity ?  Or  what  more  than  to  hold  your  tongue  about  it  ?  Do 
not  doubt  but  I  shall  be  most  heartily  glad  to  see  you  here 
again,  for  I  love  every  part  about  you  but  your  affectation  of 
distress. 

'  I  have  at  last  finished  my  Lives,  and  have  laid  up  for  you 
a  load  of  copy,  all  out  of  order,  so  that  it  will  amuse  you  for 
a  long  time  to  set  it  right.  Come  to  me,  my  dear  Bozzy,  and 
let  us  be  as  happy  as  we  can.  We  will  go  again  to  the  Mitre, 
and  talk  old  times  over. — I  am,  dear  sir,  yours  affectionately, 

'Sam.  Johnson. 

'Mwrch  14,  1781,' 

On  Monday,  March  19,  I  arrived  in  London,  and 
on  Tuesday,  the  20th,  met  him  in  Fleet  Street,  walk- 
ing, or  rather  indeed  moving  along ;  for  his  peculiar 


JET.  72]     LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON         209 

march  is  thus  described  in  a  very  just  and  picturesque 
manner,  in  a  short  Life  ^  of  him  published  very  soon 
after  his  death  :  '  When  he  walked  the  streets,  what 
with  the  constant  roll  of  his  head,  and  the  concomitant 
motion  of  his  body,  he  appeared  to  make  his  way  by 
that  motion,  independent  of  his  feet.'  That  he  was 
often  much  stared  at  while  he  advanced  in  this  manner, 
may  easily  be  believed ;  but  it  was  not  safe  to  make 
sport  of  one  so  robust  as  he  was.  Mr.  Langton  saw 
him  one  day,  in  a  fit  of  absence,  by  a  sudden  start, 
drive  the  load  off  a  porter's  back,  and  walk  forward 
briskly,  without  being  conscious  of  what  he  had  done. 
The  porter  was  very  angry,  but  stood  still,  and  eyed 
the  huge  figure  with  much  earnestness,  till  he  was 
satisfied  that  his  wisest  course  was  to  be  quiet,  and 
take  up  his  burden  again. 

Our  accidental  meeting  in  the  street,  after  a  long 
separation,  was  a  pleasing  surprise  to  us  both.  He 
stepped  aside  with  me  into  Falcon  Court,  and  made 
kind  inquiries  about  my  family,  and  as  we  were  in  a 
hurry  going  different  ways,  I  promised  to  call  on  him 
next  day ;  he  said  he  was  engaged  to  go  out  in  the 
morning.  '  Early,  sir  ? '  said  I.  Johnson  :  '  Why, 
sir,  a  London  morning  does  not  go  with  the  sun.' 

I  waited  on  him  next  evening,  and  he  gave  me  a 
great  portion  of  his  original  manuscript  of  his  Lives 
of  the  Poets,  which  he  had  preserved  for  me. 

I  found  on  visiting  his  friend,  Mr.  Thrale,  that  he 


1  Published  by  Kearsley,  with  this  well-chosen  motto : 
'  From  his  cradle 
He  was  a  scholar,  and  a  ripe  and  good  one  : 
And,  to  add  greater  honours  to  his  age 
Than  man  could  give  him,  he  died  fearing  Heaven.' 

Shakespeare. 

VOU  V.  o 


210         LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1781 

was  now  very  ill,  and  had  removed,  1  suppose  by  the 
solicitation  of  Mrs.  Thrale,  to  a  house  in  Grosvenor 
Square.  I  was  sorry  to  see  him  sadly  changed  in  his 
appearance. 

He  told  me  I  might  now  have  the  pleasure  to  see 
Dr.  Johnson  drink  wine  again,  for  he  had  lately  re- 
turned to  it.  When  I  mentioned  this  to  Johnson,  he 
said,  ^I  drink  it  now  sometimes,  hut  not  socially.* 
The  first  evening  that  I  was  with  him  at  Thrale's,  I 
observed  he  poured  a  large  quantity  of  it  into  a  glass, 
and  swallowed  it  greedily.  Everything  about  his 
character  and  manners  was  forcible  and  violent; 
there  never  was  any  moderation ;  many  a  day  did 
he  fast ;  many  a  year  did  he  refrain  from  wine ;  but 
when  he  did  eat,  it  was  voraciously  ;  when  he  did 
drink  wine,  it  was  copiously.  He  could  practise 
abstinence,  but  not  temperance. 

Mrs.  Thrale  and  I  had  a  dispute,  whether  Shake- 
speare or  Milton  had  drawn  the  most  admirable 
picture  of  a  man.^  I  was  for  Shakespeare ;  Mrs. 
Thrale  for  Milton ;  and  after  a  fair  hearing,  Johnson 
decided  for  my  opinion.^ 

1  Shakespeare  makes  Hamlet  thus  describe  his  father  : 

'  See,  what  a  grace  was  seated  on  this  brow ; 
Hyperion's  curls  ;  the  front  of  Jove  himself; 
An  eye  like  Mars,  to  threaten  and  command  ; 
A  station  like  the  herald  Mercury 
New-lighted  on  a  heaven-kissing  hill ; 
A  combination  and  a  form  indeed, 
Where  every  god  did  seem  to  set  his  seal, 
To  give  the  world  assurance  of  a  man.' 

Milton  thus  portrays  our  first  parent,  Adam : 

'  His  fair  large  front  and  eye  sublime  declared 
Absolute  rule  ;  and  hyacinthine  locks 
Round  from  his  parted  forelock  manly  hung 
Clust'ring,  but  not  beneath  his  shoulders  broad.' 

2  [It  is  strange,  that  the  picture  drawn  by  the  unlearned  Shakespeare 
should  be  full  of  classical  images,  and  that  by  the  learned  Milton, 


^T.  72]     LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  211 

I  told  him  of  one  of  Mr.  Burke's  playful  sallies 
upon  Dean  Marlay:^  'I  don't  like  the  Deanery  of 
Ferns,  it  sounds  so  like  a  barren  title.' — 'Dr.  Heath 
should  have  it,'  said  I.  Johnson  laughed,  and  con- 
descending to  trifle  in  the  same  mode  of  conceit, 
suggested  Dr.  Moss. 

He  said,  'Mrs.  Montagu  has  dropped  me.  Now, 
sir,  there  are  people  whom  one  should  like  very  well 
to  drop,  but  would  not  wish  to  be  dropped  by.'  He 
certainly  was  vain  of  the  society  of  ladies,  and  could 
make  himself  very  agreeable  to  them,  when  he  chose 
it ;  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  agreed  with  me  that  he  could. 
Mr.  Gibbon,  with  his  usual  sneer,  controverted  it, 
perhaps  in  resentment  of  Johnson's  having  talked 
with  some  disgust  of  his  ugliness,  which  one  would 
think  a  philosopher  would  not  mind.^  Dean  Marlay 
wittily  observed  :  '  A  lady  may  be  vain,  when  she 
can  turn  a  wolf-dog  into  a  lap-dog.' 

The  election  for  Ayrshire,  my  own  county,  was 
this  spring  tried  upon  a  petition,  before  a  Committee 
of  the  House  of  Commons.  I  was  one  of  the  counsel 
for  the  sitting  member,  and  took  the  liberty  of  pre- 
viously stating  diflferent  points  to  Johnson,  who  never 
failed  to  see  them  clearly,  and  to  supply  me  with  some 
good  hints.  He  dictated  to  me  the  following  note 
upon  the  registration  of  deeds  : 

*  All  laws  are  made  for  the  convenience  of  the  commiuiitj ; 

void  of  them. — Milton's  description  appears  to  me  more  picturesque.— 
Kearney]. 

1  [Dr.  Richard  Marlay,  afterwards  Lord  Bishop  of  Waterford,  a 
very  amiable,  benevolent,  and_  ingenious  man.  He  was  chosen  a 
member  of  the  Literary  Club  in  1777,  and  died  in  Dublin,  July  a, 
x8o?,  in  his  seventy-fifth  year. — M.] 

2  ['  He  (Gibbon)  is  an  ugly,  affected,  disgusting  fellow,  and  poisons 
our  Literary  Club  to  me.' — Boswell's  Letters. — £  B.] 


212         LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1781 

what  is  legally  done,  should  be  legally  recorded,  that  the  state 
of  things  may  be  known,  and  that  wherever  reverence  is 
requisite,  evidence  may  be  had.  For  this  reason,  the  obliga- 
tion to  frame  and  establish  a  legal  register  is  enforced  by  a 
legal  penalty,  which  penalty  ia  the  want  of  that  perfection 
and  plenitude  of  right  which  a  register  would  give.  Thence 
it  follows,  that  this  is  not  an  objection  merely  legal ;  for  the 
reason  on  which  the  law  stands  being  equitable,  makes  it  an 
equitable  objection.' 

'This  (said  he)  you  must  enlarge  on,  when  speak- 
ing to  the  Committee.  You_^must  not  argue  there,  as 
if  you  were  arguing  in  the  schools ;  close  reasoning 
will  not  iix  their  attention ;  you  must  say  the  same 
thing  over  and  over  again,  in  diiFerent  words.  If  you 
say  it  but  once,  they  miss  it  in  a  moment  of  inatten- 
tion. It  is  unjust,  sir,  to  censure  lawyers  for  multi- 
plying words  when  they  argue  ;  it  is  often  necessary 
for  them  to  multiply  words.' 

His  notion  of  the  duty  of  a  member  of  Parliament, 
sitting  upon  an  election-committee,  was  very  high; 
and  when  he  was  told  of  a  gentleman  upon  one  of 
those  committees,  who  read  the  newspapers  part  of 
the  time,  and  slept  the  rest,  while  the  merits  of  a 
vote  were  examined  by  the  counsel ;  and  as  an  excuse, 
when  challenged  by  the  chairman  for  such  behaviour, 
bluntly  answered,  *  I  had  made  up  my  mind  upon  that 
case  * ; — Johnson,  with  an  indignant  contempt,  said, 
'  If  he  was  such  a  rogue  as  to  make  up  his  mind  upon 
a  case  without  hearing  it,  he  should  not  have  been 
such  a  fool  as  to  tell  it.'  'I  think  (said  Mr.  Dudley 
Long,  now  North)  the  Doctor  has  pretty  plainly  made 
him  out  to  be  both  rogue  and  fool.' 

Johnson's  profound  reverence  for  the  hierarchy 
made  him  expect  from  bishops  the  highest  degree  of 


/ET.  72]    LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON         213 

decorum ;  he  was  offended  even  at  their  going  to 
taverns  :  '  A  bishop  (said  he)  has  nothing  to  do  at  a 
tippling-house.  It  is  not  indeed  immoral  in  him  to 
go  to  a  tavern ;  neither  would  it  be  immoral  in  him  to 
whip  a  top  in  Grosvenor  Square :  but,  if  he  did,  I 
hope  the  boys  would  fall  upon  him,  and  apply  the  whip 
to  him.  There  are  gradations  in  conduct ;  there  is 
morality — decency — propriety.  None  of  these  should 
be  violated  by  a  bishop.  A  bishop  should  not  go  to  a 
house  where  he  may  meet  a  young  fellow  leading  out 
a  wench.'  Boswell:  'But,  sir,  every  tavern  does 
not  admit  women.'  Johnson:  'Depend  upon  it,  sir, 
any  tavern  will  admit  a  well-dressed  man  and  a  well- 
dressed  woman  ;  they  will  not  perhaps  admit  a  woman 
whom  they  see  every  night  walking  by  their  door,  in 
the  street.  But  a  well-dressed  man  may  lead  in  a 
well-dressed  woman  to  any  tavern  in  London.  Taverns 
seU  meat  and  drink,  and  will  sell  them  to  anybody  who 
can  eat  and  can  drink.  You  may  as  well  say,  that  a 
mercer  will  not  sell  silks  to  a  woman  of  the  town.' 

He  also  disapproved  of  bishops  going  to  routs,  at 
least  of  their  staying  at  them  longer  than  their  pre- 
sence commanded  respect.    He  mentioned  a  particular 

bishop.    '  Poh  !  (said  Mrs.  Thrale)  the  Bishop  of ^ 

is  never  minded  at  a  rout. '  Boswell  :  '  When  a  bishop 
places  himself  in  a  situation  where  he  has  no  distinct 
character,  and  is  of  no  consequence,  he  degrades  the 
dignity  of  his  order.'  Johnson  :  '  Mr.  Boswell, 
madam,  has  said  it  as  correctly  as  it  could  be.* 

Nor  was  it  only  in  the  dignitaries  of  the  Church 
that   Johnson    required    a    particular    decorum    and 

1  [Probably  the  Bishop  of  St.  Asaph,  Dr.  Shipley,  a  very  gay  prelate. 
Sir  William  Jones  married  his  daughter. — A.  B.] 


214         LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1781 

delicacy  of  behaviour ;  he  justly  considered  that  the 
clergy,  as  persons  set  apart  for  the  sacred  office  of 
serving  at  the  altar,  and  impressing  the  minds  of  men 
with  the  awful  concerns  of  a  future  state,  should  be 
somewhat  more  serious  than  the  generality  of  man- 
kind, and  have  a  suitable  composure  of  manners.  A 
due  sense  of  the  dignity  of  their  profession,  indepen- 
dent of  higher  motives,  will  ever  prevent  them  from 
losing  their  distinction  in  an  indiscriminate  sociality ; 
and  did  such  as  affect  this  know  how  much  it  lessens 
them  in  the  eyes  of  those  whom  they  think  to  please 
by  it,  they  would  feel  themselves  much  mortified. 

Johnson  and  his  friend  Beauclerk  were  once 
together  in  company  with  several  clergymen,  who 
thought  that  they  should  appear  to  advantage,  by 
assuming  the  lax  jollity  of  men  of  the  world  ;  which,  as 
it  may  be  observed  in  simUar  cases,  they  carried  to 
noisy  excess.  Johnson,  who  they  expected  would  be 
entertained,  sat  grave  and  silent  for  some  time ;  at 
last,  turning  to  Beauclerk,  he  said,  by  no  means  in 
a  whisper,  *  This  merriment  of  parsons  is  mighty 
offensive.' 

Even  the  dress  of  a  clergyman  should  be  in  char- 
acter, and  nothing  can  be  more  despicable  than 
conceited  attempts  at  avoiding  the  appearance  of 
the  clerical  order ;  attempts  which  are  as  ineffectual 
as  they  are  pitiful.  Dr.  Porteus,  now  Bishop  of 
London,  in  his  excellent  charge  when  presiding  over 
the  diocese  of  Chester,  justly  animadverts  upon  this 
subject;  and  observes  of  a  reverend  fop,  that  he  ' can 
be  but  half  a  beau.' 

Addison,  in  the  Spectator,  has  given  us  a  fine 
portrait  of  a  clergyman,  who  is  supposed  to  be  a 


^T.  72]    LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON         216 

member  of  his  Club ;  and  Johnson  has  exhibited  a 
model,  in  the  character  of  Mr.  Mudge,  which  has 
escaped  the  collectors  of  his  works,  but  which  he 
owned  to  me,  and  which  indeed  he  showed  to  Sir 
Joshua  Reynolds  at  the  time  when  it  was  written. 
It  bears  the  genuine  marks  of  Johnson's  best  manner, 
and  is  as  follows  : 

'The  Reverend  Mr.  Zachariah  Mudge,  Prebendary  of 
Exeter,  and  Vicar  of  St.  Andrew's  in  Plymouth;  a  man 
equally  eminent  for  his  virtues  and  abilities,  and  at  once 
beloved  as  a  companion  and  reverenced  as  a  pastor.  He  had 
the  general  curiosity  to  which  no  kind  of  knowledge  is  in- 
different or  superfluous ;  and  that  general  benevolence  by 
which  no  order  of  men  is  hated  or  despised. 

'His  principles  both  of  thought  and  action  were  great  and 
comprehensive.  By  a  solicitous  examination  of  objections, 
and  judicious  comparison  of  opposite  arguments,  he  attained 
what  inquiry  never  gives  but  to  industry  and  perspicuity,  a 
firm  and  unshaken  settlement  of  conviction.  But  his  firmness 
was  without  asperity ;  for,  knowing  with  how  much  difficulty 
truth  was  sometimes  found,  he  did  not  wonder  that  many 
missed  it. 

'  The  general  course  of  his  life  was  determined  by  his  pro- 
fession ;  he  studied  the  sacred  volumes  in  the  original  lan- 
guages ;  with  what  diligence  and  success,  his  Notes  upon  the 
Psalms  give  suflBcient  evidence.  He  once  endeavoured  to  add 
the  knowledge  of  Arabic  to  that  of  Hebrew  ;  but  finding  hia 
thoughts  too  much  diverted  from  other  studies,  after  some 
time  desisted  from  his  purpose. 

'His  discharge  of  parochial  duties  was  exemplary.  How 
his  Sermons  were  composed,  may  be  learned  from  the  excellent 
volume  which  he  has  given  to  the  public  ;  but  how  they  were 
delivered,  can  be  known  only  to  those  that  heard  them ;  for 
as  he  appeared  in  the  pulpit,  words  will  not  easily  describe  him. 
His  delivery,  though  unconstrained,  was  not  negligent,  and 
though  forcible,  was  not  turbulent ;  disdaining  anxious  nicety 
of  emphasis,  and  laboured  artifice  of  action,  it  captivated  the 
hearer  by  its  natural  dignity,  it  roused  the  sluggish,  and  fixed 


216         LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON       [1701 

the  volatile,  and  detained  the  mind  upon  the  subject,  without 
directing  it  to  the  speaker. 

'  The  grandeur  and  solemnity  of  the  preacher  did  not  intrude 
•upon  his  general  behaviour  ;  at  the  table  of  his  friends  he  was 
a  companion  communicative  and  attentive,  of  unaffected 
manners,  of  manly  cheerfulness,  willing  to  please,  and  easy 
to  be  pleased.  His  acquaintance  was  universally  solicited, 
and  his  presence  obstructed  no  enjoyment  which  religion  did 
not  forbid.  Though  studious  he  was  popular :  though  argu- 
mentative he  was  modest ;  though  inflexible  he  was  candid ; 
and  though  metaphysical  yet  orthodox.  ^ 

On  Fi-iday,  March  30,  I  dined  with  him  at  Sir 
Joshua  Reynolds's,  with  the  Earl  of  Charlemont, 
Sir  Annesley  Stewart,  Mr.  Eliot,  of  Port  Eliot,  Mr. 
Burke,  Dean  Marlay,  Mr.  Langton ;  a  most  agree- 
able day,  of  which  I  regret  that  every  circumstance 
is  not  preserved ;  but  it  is  unreasonable  to  require 
such  a  multiplication  of  felicity. 

Mr.  Eliot,  with  whom  Dr.  Walter  Harte  had 
travelled,  talked  to  us  of  his  History  of  Gustavus 
Adolphus,  which  he  said  was  a  very  good  book  in  the 
German  translation.  Johnson  :  '  Harte  was  exces- 
sively vain.  He  put  copies  of  his  book  in  manuscript 
into  the  hands  of  Lord  Chesterfield  and  Lord  Gran- 
ville, that  they  might  revise  it.  Now  how  absurd  was 
it  to  suppose  that  two  such  noblemen  would  revise  so 
big  a  manuscript  Poor  man  !  he  left  London  the  day 
of  the  publication  of  his  book,  that  he  might  be  out  of 
the  way  of  the  great  praise  he  was  to  receive  ;  and  he 
was  ashamed  to  return,  when  he  found  how  ill  his  book 
had  succeeded.      It  was  unlucky  in  coming  out  on 


1  London  Chronicle,  May  2,  1769.  This  respectable  man  is  there 
mentioned  to  have  died  on  the  3rd  of  April,  that  year,  at  Cofi9ect,  the 
seat  of  Thomas  Veale,  Esq.,  in  his  way  to  London. 


^T.  72]    LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  217 

the  same  day  with  Robertson's  History  of  Scotland. 
His  husbandry,  however,  is  good.'  Bos  well:  'So 
he  was  fitter  for  that  than  for  heroic  history :  he  did 
well,  when  he  turned  his  sword  into  a  ploughshare.' 

Mr.  Eliot  mentioned  a  curious  liquor  peculiar  to  hia 
country,  which  the  Cornish  fishermen  drink.  They 
call  it  Mahogany;  and  it  is  made  of  two  parts  gin, 
and  one  part  treacle,  well  beaten  together.  I  begged 
to  have  some  of  it  made,  which  was  done  with  proper 
skill  by  Mr.  Eliot.  I  thought  it  very  good  liquor; 
and  said  it  was  a  counterpart  of  what  is  called  Athol 
Porridge  in  the  Highlands  of  Scotland,  which  is  a 
mixture  of  whisky  and  honey.  Johnson  said,  *  That 
must  be  a  better  liquor  than  the  Cornish,  for  both 
its  component  parts  are  better.'  He  also  observed, 
'  Mahogany  must  be  a  modern  name ;  for  it  is  not 
long  since  the  wood  called  mahogany  was  known  in 
this  country.'  I  mentioned  his  scale  of  liquors : — 
claret  for  boys, — port  for  men, — brandy  for  heroes. 
'Then  (said  Mr.  Burke)  let  me  have  claret:  I  love 
to  be  a  boy ;  to  have  the  careless  gaiety  of  boyish 
days.'  Johnson:  'I  should  drink  claret  too,  if  it 
would  give  me  that ;  but  it  does  not :  it  neither  makes 
boys  men,  nor  men  boys.  You  '11  be  drowned  by  it 
before  it  has  any  effect  upon  you.' 

I  ventured  to  mention  a  ludicrous  paragraph  in  the 
newspapers,  that  Dr.  Johnson  was  learning  to  dance 
of  Vestris.  Lord  Charlemont,  wishing  to  excite  him 
tQ  talk,  proposed  in  a  whisper  that  he  should  be  asked 
whether  it  was  true.  '  Shall  I  ask  him  .'' '  said  his  Lord- 
ship. We  were,  by  a  great  majority,  clear  for  the 
experiment.  Upon  which  his  Lordship  very  gravely, 
and  with  a  courteous  air,  said,  '  Pray,  sir,  is  it  true 


218  LIFE    OF    DR,    JOHNSON        [1781 

that  you  are  taking  lessons  of  Vestris?'  This  was 
risking  a  good  deal,  and  required  the  boldness  of  a 
general  of  Irish  volunteers  to  make  the  attempt. 
Johnson  was  at  first  startled,  and  in  some  heat 
answered,  '  How  can  your  Lordship  ask  so  simple  a 
question  ? '  But  immediately  recovering  himself, 
whether  from  unwillingness  to  be  deceived,  or  to 
appear  deceived,  or  whether  from  real  good  humour, 
he  kept  up  the  joke  :  'Nay,  but  if  anybody  were  to 
answer  the  paragraph,  and  contradict  it,  I'd  have  a 
reply,  and  would  say,  that  he  who  contradicted  it  was 
no  friend  either  to  Vestris  or  me.  For  why  should  not 
Dr.  Johnson  add  to  his  other  powers  a  little  corporeal 
agility?  Socrates  learned  to  dance  at  an  advanced 
age,  and  Cato  learned  Greek  at  an  advanced  age. 
Then  it  might  proceed  to  say  that  this  Johnson,  not 
content  with  dancing  on  the  ground,  might  dance  on 
the  ^rope ;  and  they  might  introduce  the  elephant 
dancing  on  the  rope.  A  nobleman^  wrote  a  play, 
called  Love  in  a  Hollow  Tree.  He  found  out  that 
it  was  a  bad  one,  and  therefore  wished  to  buy  up  all 
the  copies,  and  bum  them.  The  Duchess  of  Marl- 
borough had  kept  one  ;  and  when  he  was  against  her 
at  an  election,  she  had  a  new  edition  of  it  printed, 
and  prefixed  to  it,  as  a  frontispiece,  an  elephant 
dancing  on  a  rope,  to  show  that  his  Lordship's  writing 
comedy  was  as  awkward  as  an  elephant  dancing  on  a 
rope.' 

On  Sunday,  April  1, 1  dined  with  him  at  Mr.  Thrale's 
with  Sir  Philip  Jennings'  clerk  and  Mr.  Perkins, 
who  had  the  superintendence  of  Mr.  Thrale's  brewery. 


1  William,  the  first  Viscount  Grimston. 


iET.  72]     LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  219 

with  a  salary  of  five  hundred  pounds  a  year.  Sir 
Philip  had  the  appearance  of  a  gentleman  of  ancient 
family,  well  advanced  in  life.  He  wore  his  own  white 
hair  in  a  bag  of  goodly  size,  a  black  velvet  coat,  with 
an  embroidered  waistcoat,  and  very  rich  laced  ruffles, 
which  Mrs.  Thrale  said  were  old-fashioned,  but  which, 
for  that  reason,  I  thought  the  more  respectable,  more 
like  a  Tory ;  yet  Sir  Philip  was  then  in  Opposition  in 
Parliament.  'Ah,  sir  (said  Johnson),  ancient  ruffles 
and  modern  principles  do  not  agree.'  Sir  Philip 
defended  the  opposition  to  the  American  War  ably 
and  with  temper,  and  I  joined  him.  He  said  the 
majority  of  the  nation  was  against  the  ministry. 
Johnson  :  '  /,  sir,  am  against  the  ministry  ;  but  it  is 
for  having  too  little  of  that  of  which  Opposition  thinks 
they  have  too  much.  Were  I  minister,  if  any  man 
wagged  his  finger  against  me,  he  should  be  turned  out ; 
for  that  which  it  is  in  the  power  of  Government  to 
give  at  pleasure  to  one  or  to  another,  should  be  given 
to  the  supporters  of  Government.  If  you  will  not 
oppose  at  the  expense  of  losing  your  place,  your  oppo- 
sition will  not  be  honest,  you  will  feel  no  serious 
grievance ;  and  the  present  opposition  is  only  a  con- 
test to  get  what  others  have.  Sir  Robert  Walpole 
acted  as  I  would  do.  As  to  the  American  War,  the 
sense  of  the  nation  is  mth  the  ministry.  The  majority 
of  those  who  can  understand  is  with  it ;  the  majority 
of  those  who  can  only  hear  is  against  it ;  and  as  those 
who  can  only  hear  are  more  numerous  than  those  who 
can  understand,  and  opposition  is  always  loudest,  a 
majority  of  the  rabble  will  be  for  opposition.' 

This  boisterous   vivacity  entertained   us  :    but  the 
truth  in  my  opinion  was  that  those  who  could  under- 


220  LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON        [1781 

stand  the  best  were  against  the  American  War^  as 
almost  every  man  now  is,  when  the  question  has  been 
coolly  considered. 

Mrs.  Thrale  gave  high  praise  to  Mr.  Dudley  Long 
(now  North).  Johnson  :  '  Nay,  my  dear  lady,  don't 
talk  so.  Mr.  Long's  character  is  very  short.  It  is 
nothing.  He  fills  a  chair.  He  is  a  man  of  genteel 
appearance,  and  that  is  all.^  I  know  nobody  who 
blasts  by  praise  as  you  do  :  for  whenever  there  is 
exaggerated  praise,  everybody  is  set  against  a  char- 
acter. They  are  provoked  to  attack  it.  Now  there  is 
Pepys  ',  ^  you  praised  that  man  with  such  disproportion 
that  I  was  incited  to  lessen  him,  perhaps  more  than 
he  deserves.  His  blood  is  upon  your  head.  By  the 
same  principle  your  malice  defeats  itself;  for  your 
censure  is  too  violent.  And  yet  (looking  to  her  with 
a  leering  smile)  she  is  the  first  woman  in  the  world, 
could  she  but  restrain  that  wicked  tongue  of  hers ; 
—she  would  be  the  only  woman,  could  she  but  com- 
mand that  little  whirligig.' 

Upon  the  subject  of  exaggerated  praise  I  took  the 
liberty  to  say,  that  I  thought  there  might  be  very  high 
praise  given  to  a  known  character  which  deserved  it. 


1  Here  Johnson  condescended  to  play  upon  the  words  long  and 
thort.  But  little  did  he  know  that,  owing  to  Mr.  Long's  reserve  in  his 
presence,  he  was  talking  thus  of  a  gentleman  distinguished  amongst  his 
acquaintance  for  acuteness  of  wit,  one  to  whom  I  think  the  French  ex- 
pression, Ilfetille  ({esprit,  is  particularly  suited.  He  has  gratified  me 
by  mentionmg  that  he  heard  Dr.  Johnson  say,  '  Sir,  if  I  were  to  lose 
Boswell,  it  would  be  a  limb  amputated.' 

2  William  Weller  Pepys,  Esq.,  one  of  the  Masters  in  the  High  Court 
of  Chancery,  and  well  known  in  polite  circles.  My  acquaintance  with 
him  is  not  sufficient  to  enable  me  to  speak  of  him  from  my  own  judg- 
ment. But  I  know  that  both  at  Eton  and  Oxford  he  was  the  intimate 
friend  of  the  late  Sir  James  Macdonald,  the  Marcellus  of  Scotland, 
whose  extraordinary  talents,  learning,  and  virtues  will  ever  be  remem- 
bered with  admiration  and  regret. 


JET.72]    LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  221 

aijd  therefore  it  would  not  be  exaggerated.  Thus, 
one  might  say  of  Mr.  Edmund  Burke,  he  is  a  very 
wonderful  man.  Johnson:  'No,  sir,  you  would  not 
be  safe,  if  another  man  had  a  mind  perversely  to  con- 
tradict. He  might  answer,  "  Where  is  all  the  wonder .-^ 
Burke  is,  to  be  sure,  a  man  of  uncommon  abilities, 
with  a  great  quantity  of  matter  in  his  mind,  and  a 
great  fluency  of  language  in  his  mouth.  But  we  are 
not  to  be  stunned  and  astonished  by  him."  So  you 
see,  sir,  even  Burke  would  sufl^er,  not  from  any  fault 
of  his  own,  but  from  your  folly.' 

Mrs.  Thrale  mentioned  a  gentleman  who  had 
acquired  a  fortune  of  £4000  a  year  in  trade,  but 
was  absolutely  miserable,  because  he  could  not  talk 
in  company;    so  miserable  that  he  was  impelled  to 

lament  his  situation  in  the  street  to  ,  whom  he 

hates,  and  who  he  knows  despises  him.  *  I  am  a  most 
unhappy  man  (said  he).  I  am  invited  to  conversations. 
I  go  to  conversations  ;  but,  alas  !  I  have  no  conversa- 
tion.' Johnson:  'Man  commonly  cannot  be  success- 
ful in  different  ways.  This  gentleman  has  spent,  in 
getting  £4000  a  year,  the  time  in  which  he  might  have 
learned  to  talk ;  and  now  he  cannot  talk.'  Mr. 
Perkins  made  a  shrewd  and  droll  remark  :  '  If  he  had 
got  his  £4000  a  year  as  a  mountebank,  he  might  have 
learned  to  talk  at  the  same  time  that  he  was  getting 
his  fortune.' 

Some  other  gentlemen  came  in.  The  conversation 
concerning  the  person  whose  character  Dr.  Johnson 
had  treated  so  slightingly,  as  he  did  not  know  his 
merit,  was  resumed.  Mrs.  Thrale  said,  '  You  think 
so  of  him,  sir,  because  he  is  quiet,  and  does  not  exert 
himself  with  force.     You  '11  be  saying  the  same  thing 


222         LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1781 

of  Mr. there,  who  sits  as  quiet '    This  was 

not  well  bred  ;  and  Johnson  did  not  let  it  pass  without 
correction.     'Nay,  madam,  what  right  have  you  to 

talk  thus."*     Both  Mr.  and  I  have  reason  to 

take  it  ill.      You  may  talk  so  of  Mr.  ;  but  why 

do  you  make  me  do  it .''     Have  I  said  anything  against 

Mr.  .''     You  have  set  him  that  I  might  shoot 

him  :  but  I  have  not  shot  him.' 

One  of  the  gentlemen  said  he  had  seen  three  folio 
volumes  of  Dr.  Johnson's  sayings  collected  by  me. 
*  I  must  put  you  right,  sir  (said  I) ;  for  I  am  very 
exact  in  authenticity.  You  could  not  see  folio 
volumes,  for  I  have  none :  you  might  have  seen 
some  in  quarto  and  octavo.  This  is  an  inattention 
which  one  should  guard  against'  Johnson:  *Sir, 
it  is  a  want  of  concern  about  veracity.  He  does  not 
know  that  he  saw  any  volumes.  If  he  had  seen  them 
he  could  have  remembered  their  size.' 

Mr.  Thrale  appeared  very  lethargic  to-day.  I  saw 
him  again  on  Monday  evening,  at  which  time  he  was 
not  thought  to  be  in  immediate  danger ;  but  early  in 
the  morning  of  Wednesday  the  4th  he  expired.  John- 
son was  in  the  house,  and  thus  mentions  the  event : 
'  I  felt  almost  the  last  flutter  of  his  pulse,  and  looked 
for  the  last  time  upon  the  face  that  for  fifteen  years 
had  never  been  turned  upon  me  but  with  respect  and 
benignity.'  ^  Upon  that  day  there  was  a  call  of  the 
Literary  Club,  but  Johnson  apologised  for  his  absence 
by  the  following  note  : 


1  [Johnson's  expressions  on  this  occasion  remind  us  of  Isaac  Walton's 
eulogy  on  Whitgift,  in  his  Life  of  Hooker : — '  He  lived  ...  to  be  present 
at  the  expiration  of  her  (Queen  Elizabeth's)  last  breath,  and  to  behold 
the  closing  of  those  eyes  that  had  long  looked  upon  hira  with  reverence 
and  affection.' — Kearney.) 


^T.  72]    LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  223 

'Mr.  Johnson  knows  that  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  and  the 
other  gentlemen  will  excuse  his  incompliance  with  the  call, 
when  they  are  told  that  Mr.  Thrale  died  this  morning. 

'  Wednesday.' 

Mr.  Thrale's  death  was  a  very  essential  loss  to 
Johnson,  who,  although  he  did  not  foresee  all  that 
afterwards  happened,  was  sufficiently  convinced  that 
the  comforts  which  Mr.  Thrale's  family  afforded  him 
would  now  in  a  great  measure  cease.  He,  however, 
continued  to  show  a  kind  attention  to  his  widow  and 
children  as  long  as  it  was  acceptable ;  and  he  took 
upon  him,  with  a  very  earnest  concern,  the  office 
of  one  of  his  executors,  the  importance  of  which 
seemed  greater  than  usual  to  him,  from  his  circum- 
stances having  been  always  such  that  he  had  scarcely 
any  share  in  the  real  business  of  life.  His  friends  of 
the  Club  were  in  hopes  that  Mr.  Thrale  might  have 
made  a  liberal  provision  for  him  for  his  life,  which, 
as  Mr.  Thrale  left  no  son  and  a  very  large  fortune,  it 
would  have  been  highly  to  his  honour  to  have  done ; 
and,  considering  Dr.  Johnson's  age,  could  not  have 
been  of  long  duration ;  but  he  bequeathed  him  only 
two  hundred  pounds,  which  was  the  legacy  given  to 
each  of  his  executors.  I  could  not  but  be  somewhat 
diverted  by  hearing  Johnson  talk  in  a  pompous  manner 
of  his  new  office,  and  particularly  of  the  concerns  of 
the  brewery,  which  it  was  at  last  resolved  should  be 
sold.  Lord  Lucan  tells  a  very  good  story,  which,  if 
not  precisely  exact,  is  certainly  characteristical :  that 
when  the  sale  of  Thrale's  brewery  was  going  forward, 
Johnson  appeared  bustling  about  with  an  inkhoru 
and  pen  in  his  button-hole,  like  an  exciseman ;  and 
on  being  asked  what  he  really  considered  to  be  the 


224  LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON        [1781 

value  of  the  property  which  was  to  be  disposed  of, 
answered,  '  We  are  not  here  to  sell  a  parcel  of  boilers 
and  vats,  but  the  potentiality  of  growing  rich  beyond 
the  dreams  of  avarice. ' 

On  Friday,  April  6,  he  carried  me  to  dine  at  a  club, 
which,  at  his  desire,  had  been  lately  formed  at  the 
Queen's  Arms,  in  St.  Paul's  Churchyard.  He  told 
Mr.  Hoole  that  he  wished  to  have  a  City  Club,  and 
asked  him  to  collect  one  ;  but,  said  he,  '  Don't  let 
them  be  pati-iots.'  The  company  were  to-day  very 
sensible,  well-behaved  men.  I  have  preserved  only 
two  particulars  of  his  conversation.  He  said  he  was 
glad  Lord  George  Gordon  had  escaped,  rather  than 
that  a  precedent  should  be  established  for  hanging 
a  man  for  constructive  treason ;  which,  in  consistency 
with  his  true,  manly,  constitutional  Toryism,  he  con- 
sidered would  be  a  dangerous  engine  of  arbitrary 
power.  And  upon  its  being  mentioned  that  an 
opulent  and  very  indolent  Scotch  nobleman,  who 
totally  resigned  the  management  of  his  affairs  to  a 
man  of  knowledge  and  abilities,  had  claimed  some  merit 
by  saying,  '  The  next  best  thing  to  managing  a  man's 
own  affairs  well  is  being  sensible  of  incapacity  and  not 
attempting  it,  but  having  full  confidence  in  one  who 
can  do  it.'  Johnson:  'Nay,  sir,  this  is  paltry.  There 
is  a  middle  course.  Let  a  man  give  application,  and 
depend  upon  it,  he  will  soon  get  above  a  despicable 
state  of  helplessness,  and  attain  the  power  of  acting 
for  himself.' 

On  Saturday,  April  7,  I  dined  with  him  at  Mr. 
Hoole's  with  Governor  Bouchier  and  Captain  Orme, 
both  of  whom  had  been  long  in  the  East  Indies ;  and 
being  men  of  good  sense  and  observation,  were  very 


JET.72]     LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  225 

entertaining.  Johnson  defended  the  oriental  regula- 
tion of  diflFerent  castes  of  men^^  which  was  objected  to 
as  totally  destructive  to  the  hopes  of  rising  in  society 
by  personal  merit.  He  showed  that  there  was  a 
principle  in  it  sufficiently  plausible  by  analogy.  '  We 
see  (said  he)  in  metals  that  there  are  different  species; 
and  so  likewise  in  animals,  though  one  species  may 
not  differ  very  widely  from  another,  as  in  the  species 
of  dogs — the  cur,  the  spaniel,  and  the  mastiff.  The 
Brahmins  are  the  mastiffs  of  mankind. ' 

On  Thursday,  April  12, 1  dined  with  him  at  a  bishop's, 
where  were  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  Mr.  Berenger,  and 
some  more  company.  He  had  dined  the  day  before 
at  another  bishop's.  I  have  unfortunately  recorded 
none  of  his  conversation  at  the  bishop's  where  we 
dined  together ;  but  I  have  preserved  his  ingenious 
defence  of  his  dining  twice  abroad  in  Passion-week ; 
a  laxity  in  which  I  am  convinced  he  would  not  have 
indulged  himself  at  the  time  when  he  wrote  his  solemn 
paper  in  the  Rambler  upon  that  awful  season.  It 
appeared  to  me  that  by  being  much  more  in  company; 
and  enjoying  more  luxurious  living,  he  had  contracted 
a  keener  relish  for  pleasure,  and  was  consequently 
less  rigorous  in  his  religious  rites.  This  he  would  not 
acknowledge ;  but  he  reasoned  with  admirable  sophistry 
as  follows :  *  Why,  sir,  a  bishop's  calling  company  to- 
gether in  this  week  is,  to  use  the  vulgar  phrase,  not 
the  thing.  But  you  must  consider  laxity  is  a  bad 
thing ;  but  preciseness  is  also  a  bad  thing ;  and  your 
general  character  may  be  more  hurt  by  preciseness 
than  by  dining  with  a  bishop  in  Passion-week.     There 

1  [Rajapouts,  the  military  caste ;  the  Brahmins,  pacific  and  abs- 
temious.—Kearney.] 

VOL.  V  P 


226  LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON        [1781 

might  be  a  handle  for  reflection.  It  might  be  said, 
'He  refuses  to  dine  with  a  bishop  in  Passion-week, 
but  was  three  Sundays  absent  from  church." '  Bos- 
well:  'Very  true,  sir.  But  suppose  a  man  to  be 
uniformly  of  good  conduct,  would  it  not  be  better  that 
he  should  refuse  to  dine  with  a  bishop  in  this  week, 
and  so  not  encourage  a  bad  practice  by  his  example .'' ' 
Johnson  :  '  Why,  sir,  you  are  to  consider  whether 
you  might  not  do  more  harm  by  lessening  the  influ- 
ence of  a  bishop's  character  by  your  disapprobation 
in  refusing  him  than  by  going  to  him.' 

TO   MRS.  LUCY  PORTER,  IN   LICHFIELD 

'  Deab  Madam, — Life  is  full  of  troubles.  I  have  just  lost 
my  dear  friend  Thrale.  I  hope  he  is  happy ;  but  I  have  had 
a  great  loss.  I  am  otherwise  pretty  well.  I  require  some 
care  of  myself,  but  that  care  is  not  ineffectual ;  and  when  I 
am  out  of  order  I  think  it  often  my  own  fault. 

'The  spring  is  now  making  quick  advances.  As  it  is  the 
season  in  which  the  whole  world  is  enlivened  and  invigorated, 
I  hope  that  both  you  and  I  shall  partake  of  its  benefits.  My 
desire  is  to  see  Lichfield ;  but  being  left  executor  to  my  friend, 
I  know  not  whether  I  can  be  spared ;  but  I  wUl  try,  for  it  is 
now  long  since  we  saw  one  another,  and  how  little  we  can 
promise  ourselves  m^ny  more  interviews  we  are  taught  by 
hourly  examples  of  mortality.  Let  us  try  to  live  so  as  that 
mortality  may  not  be  an  evil.  Write  to  me  soon,  my  dearest ; 
your  letters  will  give  me  great  pleasure. 

'  I  am  sorry  that  Mr.  Porter  has  not  had  his  box ;  but  by 
sending  it  to  Dlr.  Mathias,  who  very  readily  imdertook  its 
conveyance,  I  did  the  best  I  could,  and  perhaps  before  now 
he  has  it. 

'  Be  so  kind  as  to  make  my  compliments  to  my  friends ;  I 
have  a  great  value  for  their  kindness,  and  hope  to  enjoy  it 
before  summer  is  past.  Do  write  to  me. — I  am,  dearest  love, 
your  most  himible  servant,  Sam.  Johnson. 

'London,  April  12,  1781.' 


iET.72]     LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  227 

On  Friday,  April  13,  being  Good  Friday,  I  went 
to  St.  Clement's  Church  with  him  as  usual.  There  I 
saw  again  his  old  fellow-collegian  Edwards,  to  whom 
I  said,  *  I  think,  sir.  Dr.  Johnson  and  you  meet  only 
at  church.*  *  Sir  (said  he),  it  is  the  best  place  we  can 
meet  in,  except  Heaven,  and  I  hope  we  shall  meet 
there  too.'  Dr.  Johnson  told  me  that  there  was  very 
little  communication  between  Edwards  and  him,  after 
their  unexpected  renewal  of  acquaintance.  '  But  (said 
he,  smiling)  he  met  me  once,  and  said,  ''I  am  told  you 
have  written  a  very  pretty  book  called  the  Rambler." 
I  was  unwilling  that  he  should  leave  the  world  in 
total  darkness,  and  sent  him  a  set.' 

Mr.  Berenger  ^  visited  him  to-day,  and  was  very 
pleasing.  We  talked  of  an  evening  society  for  con- 
versation at  a  house  in  town,  of  which  we  were  all 
members,  but  of  which  Johnson  said,  *  It  will  never 
do,  sir.  There  is  nothing  served  about  there,  neither 
tea,  nor  coffee,  nor  lemonade,  nor  anything  whatever ; 
and  depend  upon  it,  sir,  a  man  does  not  love  to  go  to 
a  place  from  whence  he  comes  out  exactly  as  he  went 
in.'  I  endeavoured,  for  argument's  sake,  to  maintain 
that  men  of  learning  and  talents  might  have  very  good 
intellectual  society,  without  the  aid  of  any  little  grati- 
fications of  the  senses.  Berenger  joined  with  John- 
son, and  said,  that  without  these  any  meeting  would 
be  dull  and  insipid.  He  would  therefore  have  all  the 
slight  refreshments;  nay,  it  would  not  be  amiss  to 
have  some  cold  meat,  and  a  bottle  of  wine  upon  a 
sideboard.     '  Sir  (said  Johnson  to  me,  with  an  air  of 


*  [Richard  Berenger,  Esq. ,  many  years  Gentleman  of  the  Horse  to 
his  present  Majesty,  and  author  of  The  History  and  Art  of  Hortt- 
mamhip,  in  two  volumes,  410,  1771. — M.] 


228         LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1781 

triumpli),  Mr.  Berenger  knows  the  world.  Every- 
body loves  to  have  good  things  furnished  to  them 
without  any  trouble.  I  told  Mrs.  Thrale  once,  that  as 
she  did  not  choose  to  have  card-tables,  she  should 
have  a  profusion  of  the  best  sweetmeats,  and  she 
would  be  sure  to  have  company  enough  come  to  her.' 
I  agreed  with  my  illustrious  friend  upon  this  subject; 
for  it  has  pleased  God  to  make  man  a  composite 
animal,  and  where  there  is  nothing  to  refresh  the 
body,  the  mind  will  languish. 

On  Sunday,  April  15,  being  Easter  Day,  after  solemn 
worship  in  St.  Paul's  Church,  I  found  him  alone ; 
Dr.  Scott,^  of  the  Commons,  came  in.  He  talked  of 
its  having  been  said,  that  Addison  wrote  some  of  his 
best  papers  in  the  Spectator  when  warm  with  wine. 
Dr.  Johnson  did  not  seem  willing  to  admit  this.  Dr. 
Scott,  as  a  confirmation  of  it,  related  that  Blackstone, 
a  sober  man,  composed  his  Commentaries  with  a  bottle 
of  port  before  him ;  and  found  his  mind  invigorated 
and  supported  in  the  fatigue  of  his  great  work,  by  a 
temperate  use  of  it. 

I  told  him  that  in  a  company  where  I  had  lately 
been,  a  desire  was  expressed  to  know  his  authority  for 
the  shocking  story  of  Addison's  sending  an  execution 
into  Steele's  house.  *  Sir  (said  he),  it  is  generally 
known ;  it  is  known  to  all  who  are  acquainted  with 
the  literary  history  of  that  period ;  it  is  as  well  known 
a<s  that  he  wrote  Cato.  Mr.  Thomas  Sheridan  once 
defended  Addison  to  me  by  alleging  that  he  did  it  in 
order  to  cover  Steele's  goods  from  other  creditors, 
who  were  going  to  seize  them. 

J  [Afterwards  Lord  Stowell,  himself  a  famous  man  for  the  bottle. 
—A.  B.] 


«T.  72]     LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON  229 

We  talked  of  the  difference  between  the  mode  of 
education  at  Oxford^  and  that  in  those  colleges  where 
instruction  is  chiefly  conveyed  by  lectures.  Johnson  : 
'  Lectiires  were  once  useful ;  but  now,  when  all  can 
read,  and  books  are  so  numerous,  lectures  are  un- 
necessary. If  your  attention  fails,  and  you  miss  a 
part  of  the  lecture,  it  is  lost ;  you  cannot  go  back  as 
you  do  upon  a  book.'  Dr.  Scott  agreed  with  him. 
'  But  yet  (said  1),  Dr.  Scott,  you  yourself  gave  lectures 
at  Oxford.'  He  smiled.  '  You  laughed  (then  said  I) 
at  those  who  came  to  you.' 

Dr.  Scott  left  us,  and  soon  afterwards  we  went  to 
dinner.  Our  company  consisted  of  Mrs.  Williams, 
Mrs.  Desmoulins,  Mr.  Levett,  Mr.  Allen,  the  printer, 
[Mr.  Macbean,]  and  Mrs.  Hall,  sister  of  the  Reverend 
Mr.  John  Wesley,  and  resembling  him,  as  I  thought, 
both  in  figure  and  manner.  Johnson  produced  now, 
for  the  first  time,  some  handsome  silver  salvers,  which 
he  told  me  he  had  bought  fourteen  years  ago ;  so  it 
was  a  great  day.  I  was  not  a  little  amused  by  ob- 
serving AUen  perpetually  struggling  to  talk  in  the 
manner  of  Johnson,  like  the  little  frog  in  the  fable 
blowing  himself  up  to  resemble  the  stately  ox. 

I  mentioned  a  kind  of  religious  Robinhood  society, 
which  met  every  Sunday  evening  at  Coachmakers' 
Hall,  for  free  debate;  and  that  the  subject  for  this 
night  was  the  text  which  relates,  with  other  miracles 
which  happened  at  our  Saviour's  death,  '  And  the 
graves  were  opened,  and  many  bodies  of  the  saints 
which  slept  arose,  and  came  out  of  the  graves  after 
his  resurrection,  and  went  into  the  holy  city  and 
appeared  unto  many.'  Mrs.  Hall  said  it  was  a  very 
curious  subject,  and  she  should  like  to  hear  it  dis- 


230  LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1781 

cussed.  Johnson  (somewhat  warmly)  :  '  One  would 
not  go  to  such  a  place  to  hear  it, — one  would  not  be 
seen  in  such  a  place, — to  give  countenance  to  such  a 
meeting.'  I,  however,  resolved  that  I  would  go. 
'  But,  sir  (said  she  to  Johnson),  I  should  like  to  hear 
you  discuss  it.'  He  seemed  reluctant  to  engage  in  it. 
She  talked  of  the  resurrection  of  the  human  race  in 
general,  and  maintained  that  we  shall  be  raised  with 
the  same  bodies.  Johnson  :  '  Nay,  madam,  we  see 
that  it  is  not  to  be  the  same  body  ;  for  the  Scripture 
uses  the  illustration  of  grain  sown,  and  we  know  that 
the  grain  which  grows  is  not  the  same  with  what  is 
sown.  You  cannot  suppose  that  we  shall  rise  with  a 
diseased  body ;  it  is  enough  if  there  be  such  a  same- 
ness as  to  distinguish  identity  of  person.'  She  seemed 
desirous  of  knowing  more,  but  he  left  the  question  in 
obscurity. 

Of  apparitions,^  he  observed,  'A  total  disbelief  of 
them  is  adverse  to  the  opinion  of  the  existence  of  the 
soul  between  death  and  the  last  day ;  the  question 
simply  is,  whether  departed  spirits  ever  have  the 
power  of  making  themselves  perceptible  to  us ;  a  man 
who  thinks  he  has  seen  an  'apparition,  can  only  be 
convinced  himself;  his  authority  will  not  convince 
another ;  and  his  conviction,  if  rational,  must  be 
founded  on  being  told  something  which  cannot  be 
known  but  by  supernatural  means.' 

He  mentioned  a  thing  as  not  unfrequent,  of  which 


1  [As  this  subject  frequently  recurs  in  these  volumes,  the  reader  may 
be  led  erroneously  to  suppose  that  Dr.  Johnson  was  so  fond  of  such  dis- 
cussions, as  frequently  to  introduce  them.  But  the  truth  is,  that  the 
author  himself  delighted  in  talking  concerning  ghosts,  and  what  he 
has  frequently  denominated  tlie  tnysterious  ;  and  therefore  took  every 
opportunity  of  ieeuitng'  ] ohnson  to  converse  on  such  subjects. — M.] 


JET.  72]    LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON         231 

I  had  never  heard  before, — being  called,  that  is,  hear- 
ing one's  name  pronounced  by  the  voice  of  a  known 
person  at  a  great  distance,  far  beyond  the  possibility 
of  being  reached  by  any  sound  uttered  by  human 
organs.  'An  acquaintance,  on  whose  veracity  I  can 
depend,  told  me,  that  walking  home  one  evening  to 
Kilmarnock,  he  heard  himself  called  from  a  wood,  by 
the  voice  of  a  brother  who  had  gone  to  America ;  and 
the  next  packet  brought  accounts  of  that  brother's 
death. '  Macbean  asserted  that  this  inexplicable  calling 
was  a  thing  very  well  known.  Dr.  Johnson  said,  that 
one  day  at  Oxford,  as  he  was  turning  the  key  of  his 
chamber,  he  heard  his  mother  distinctly  call — Sam. 
She  was  then  at  Lichfield  ;  but  nothing  ensued.  This 
phenomenon  is,  I  think,  as  wonderful  as  any  other 
mysterious  fact,  which  many  people  are  very  slow  to 
believe,  or  rather,  indeed,  reject  with  an  obstinate 
contempt. 

Some  time  after  this,  upon  his  making  a  remark 
which  escaped  my  attention,  Mrs.  Williams  and  Mrs. 
Hall  were  both  together  striving  to  answer  him.  He 
grew  angry,  and  called  out  loudly,  '  Nay,  when  you 
both  speak  at  once,  it  is  intolerable.'  But  checking 
himself,  and  softening,  he  said,  '  This  one  may  say, 
though  you  are  ladies.'  Then  he  brightened  into  gay 
humour,  and  addressed  them  in  the  words  of  one  of 
the  songs  in  the  Beggar's  Opera  : 

'  But  two  at  a  time  there 's  no  mortal  can  bear.' 

*  What,  sir  (said  I),  are  you  going  to  turn  Captain 
Macheath  ? '  There  was  something  as  pleasantly  ludi- 
crous in  this  scene  as  can  be  imagined.  The  contrast 
between  Macheath,  Polly,  and  Lucy — and  Dr.  Samuel 


232  LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON        [1781 

Johnson ;  blind,  peevish  Mrs.  Williams ;  and  lean, 
lank,  preaching  Mrs.  Hall,  was  exquisite. 

I  stole  away  to  Coachmakers'  Hall,  and  heard  the 
diflScult  text  of  which  he  had  talked,  discussed  with 
great  decency,  and  some  intelligence,  by  several 
speakers.  There  was  a  difference  of  opinion  as  to 
the  appearance  of  ghosts  in  modern  times,  though  the 
arguments  for  it,  supported  by  Mr.  Addison's  authority, 
preponderated.  The  immediate  subject  of  debate  was 
embarrassed  by  the  bodies  of  the  saints  having  been 
said  to  rise,  and  by  the  question  what  became  of  them 
afterwards : — did  they  return  to  their  graves  ?  or  were 
they  translated  to  heaven .''  Only  one  evangelist  men- 
tions the  fact,^  and  the  commentators  whom  I  have 
looked  at  do  not  make  the  passage  clear.  There  is, 
however,  no  occasion  for  our  understanding  it  further, 
than  to  know  that  it  was  one  of  the  extraordinary 
manifestations  of  divine  power,  which  accompanied  the 
most  important  event  that  ever  happened. 

On  Friday,  April  20,  I  spent  with  him  one  of  the 
happiest  days  that  I  remember  to  have  enjoyed  in  the 
whole  course  of  my  life.  Mrs.  Garrick,  whose  grief 
for  the  loss  of  her  husband  was,  I  believe,  as  sincere 
as  wounded  affection  and  admiration  could  produce, 
had  this  day,  for  the  first  time  since  his  death,  a  select 
party  of  his  friends  to  dine  with  her.  The  company 
was.  Miss  Hannah  More,  who  lived  with  her,  and 
whom  she  called  her  Chaplain  ;  Mrs.  Boscawen,  Mrs. 
Elizabeth  Carter,  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  Dr.  Burney, 
Dr.  Johnson,  and  myself.  We  found  ourselves  very 
elegantly  entertained  at  her  house  in  the  Adelphi, 


^  St.  Matthew  xxvii.  52,  53. 


JET.  72]    LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON  233 

where  I  have  passed  many  a  pleasing  hour  with  him, 
'who  gladdened  life.'  She  looked  well,  talked  of  her 
husband  with  complacency,  and  while  she  cast  her 
eyes  on  his  portrait,  which  hung  over  the  chimney- 
piece,  said,  that  '  death  was  now  the  most  agreeable 
object  to  her.'  The  very  semblance  of  David  Garrick 
was  cheering.  Mr.  Beauclerk,  with  happy  propriety, 
inscribed  under  that  fine  portrait  of  him,  which  by 
Lady  Diana's  kindness  is  now  the  property  of  my 
friend  Mr.  Langton,  the  following  passage  from  his 
beloved  Shakespeare : 

*A  merrier  man, 
■Within  the  limit  of  becoming  mirth, 
I  never  spent  an  hour's  talk  withaL 
His  eye  begets  occasion  for  his  wit ; 
For  every  object  that  the  one  doth  catch. 
The  other  turns  to  a  mirth-moving  jest ; 
Which  his  fair  tongue  (Conceit's  expositor) 
Delivers  in  such  apt  and  gracious  words, 
That  aged  ears  play  truant  at  his  tales, 
And  younger  hearings  are  quite  ravished ; 
So  sweet  and  voluble  is  his  discourse.' 

We  were  all  in  fine  spirits;  and  I  whispered  tr 
Mrs.  Boscawen,  '  I  believe  this  is  as  much  as  can  be 
made  of  life.'  In  addition  to  a  splendid  entertain- 
ment, we  were  regaled  with  Lichfield  ale,  which  had 
a  peculiar  appropriate  value.  Sir  Joshua,  and  Dr. 
Burney,  and  I,  drank  cordially  of  it  to  Dr.  Johnson's 
health  ;  and  though  he  would  not  join  us,  he  as 
cordially  answered,  'Gentlemen,  I  wish  you  all  as 
well  as  you  do  me.' 

The  general  effect  of  this  day  dwells  upon  my  mind 
in  fond  remembrance ;  but  I  do  not  find  much  con- 


234         LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1781 

versation  recorded.  What  I  have  preserved  shall  be 
faithfully  given. 

One  of  the  company  mentioned  Mr.  Thomas  HoUis, 
the  strenuous  Whig,  who  used  to  send  over  Europe 
presents  of  democratical  books,  with  their  boards 
stamped  with  daggers  and  caps  of  liberty.  Mrs. 
Carter  said,  '  He  was  a  bad  man  ;  he  used  to  talk  un- 
charitably.' Johnson  :  '  Poh  !  poh  !  madam  ;  who  is 
the  worse  for  being  talked  of  uncharitably .''  Besides, 
he  was  a  duU  poor  creature  as  ever  lived ;  and  I 
believe  he  would  not  have  done  harm  to  a  man  whom 
he  knew  to  be  of  very  opposite  principles  to  his  own. 
I  remember  once  at  the  Society  of  Arts,  when  an 
advertisement  was  to  be  drawn  up,  he  pointed  me 
out  as  the  man  who  could  do  it  best.  This,  you  will 
observe,  was  kindness  to  me.  I  however  slipped  away 
and  escaped  it.' 

Mrs.  Carter  having  said  of  the  same  person,  '  I 
doubt  he  was  an  atheist.'  Johnson  :  '  I  don't  know 
that.  He  might  perhaps  have  become  one,  if  he  had 
had  time  to  ripen  (smiling).  He  might  have  eaniberated 
into  an  atheist.' 

Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  praised  Mudge's  Sermons. 
Johnson  :  '  Mudge's  Sermons  are  good,  but  not  prac- 
tical. He  grasps  more  sense  than  he  can  hold ;  he 
takes  more  corn  than  he  can  make  into  meal ;  he 
opens  a  wide  prospect,  but  it  is  so  distant,  it  is  in- 
distinct. I  love  Blair's  Sermons.  Though  the  dog  is 
a  Scotchman,  and  a  Presbyterian,  and  everything 
he  should  not  be,  I  was  the  first  to  praise  them. 
Such  was  my  candour '  (smiling).  Mrs.  Boscawen  : 
'  Such  his  great  merit,  to  get  the  better  of  all  your 
prejudices.'     Johnson:  'Why,  madam,  let  us  com- 


JET  72]    LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON         235 

pound  the  [matter ;  let  us  ascribe  it  to  my  candour, 
and  his  merit.' 

In  the  evening  we  had  a  large  company  in  the 
drawing-room  ;  several  ladies,  the  Bishop  of  Killaloe, 
Dr.  Percy,  Mr.  Chamberlayne  of  the  Treasury,  etc. 
etc.  Somebody  said  the  life  of  a  mere  literary  man 
could  not  be  very  entertaining.  Johnson  :  '  But  it 
certainly  may.  This  is  a  remark  which  has'been  made, 
and  repeated,  without  justice ;  why  should  the  life  of 
a  literary  man  be  less  entertaining  than  the  life  of  any 
other  man  }  Are  there  not  as  interesting  varieties  in 
such  a  life  ?  As  o  literary  life  it  may  be  very  enter- 
taining. '  BoswEiiL :  '  But  it  must  be  better,  surely, 
when  it  is  diversified  with  a  little  active  variety — such 
as  his  having  gone  to  Jamaica ;  or — his  having  gone  to 
the  Hebrides.'     Johnson  was  not  displeased  at  this. 

Talking  of  a  very  respectable  author,  he  told  us  a 
curious  circumstance  in  his  life,  which  was,  that  he 
had  married  a  printer's  devil.  Reynolds  :  'A  printer's 
devil,  sir  !  Why,  I  thought  a  printer's  devU  was  a 
creature  with  a  black  face  and  in  rags.'  Johnson  : 
*Yes,  sir.  But  I  suppose  he  had  her  face  washed, 
and  put  clean  clothes  on  her.  (Then  looking  very 
serious  and  very  earnestj:)  And  she  did  not  disgrace 
him  ;  the  woman  had  a  bottom  of  good  sense.'  The 
word  bottom  thus  introduced  was  so  ludicrous  when 
contrasted  with  his  gravity,  that  most  of  us  could  not 
forbear  tittering  and  laughing,  though  I  recollect  that 
the  Bishop  of  Killaloe  kept  his  countenance  with  per- 
fect steadiness,  while  Miss  Hannah  More  slily  hid  her 
face  behind  a  lady's  back  who  sat  on  the  same  settee 
with  her.  His  pride  could  not  bear  that  any  ex- 
pression of  his  should  excite  ridicule  when  he  did 


236         LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1781 

not  intend  it ;  he  therefore  resolved  to  assume  and 
exercise  despotic  power,  glanced  sternly  around,  and 
called  out  in  a  strong  tone,  'Where's  the  merri- 
ment ? '  Then  collecting  himself,  and  looking  awful, 
to  make  us  feel  how  he  could  impose  restraint,  and  as 
it  were  searching  his  mind  for  a  still  more  ludicrous 
word,  he  slowly  pronounced,  'I  say  the  woman  was 
fundamentally  sensible,'  as  if  he  had  said,  '  Hear  this 
now,  and  laugh  if  you  dare.'  We  all  sat  composed 
as  at  a  funeral. 

He  and  I  walked  away  together;  we  stopped  a  little 
while  by  the  rails  of  the  Adelphi,  looking  on  the 
Thames;  and  I  said  to  him,  with  some  emotion,  that  I 
was  now  thinking  of  two  friends  we  had  lost,  who 
once  lived  in  the  buildings  behind  us,  Beauclerk  and 
Garrick.  '  Ay,  sir  (said  he  tenderly),  and  two  such 
friends  as  cannot  be  supplied.' 

For  some  time  after  this  day  I  did  not  see  him  very 
often,  and  of  the  conversation  which  I  did  enjoy,  I  am 
sorry  to  find  I  have  preserved  but  little.  I  was  at 
this  time  engaged  in  a  variety  of  other  matters,  which 
required  exertion  and  assiduity,  and  necessarily  oc- 
cupied almost  all  my  time. 

One  day,  having  spoken  very  freely  of  those  who 
were  then  in  power,  he  said  to  me,  'Between  our- 
selves, sir,  I  do  not  like  to  give  Opposition  the 
satisfaction  of  knowing  how  much  I  disapprove  of  the 
ministry.'  And  when  I  mentioned  that  Mr.  Burke 
had  boasted  how  quiet  the  nation  was  in  George  the 
Second's  reign,  when  Whigs  were  in  power,  compared 
with  the  present  reign,  when  Tories  governed ; — 
*  Why,  sir  (said  he),  you  are  to  consider  that  Tories, 
having  more  reverence  for  government,  will  not  oppose 


iET.  72]    LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON         237 

with  the  same  violence  as  Whigs,  who,  heing  un- 
restrained by  that  principle,  wiU  oppose  by  any 
means.' 

This  month  he  lost  not  only  Mr.  Thrale,  but 
another  friend,  Mr.  William  Strahan,  junior,  printer, 
the  eldest  son  of  his  old  and  constant  friend,  printer 
to  his  Majesty. 

TO   UBS.  STBAHAN 

'  Deaji  Madam, — ^The  grief  which  I  feel  for  the  loss  of  a 
very  kind  friend  is  sufficient  to  make  me  know  how  much  you 
suffer  from  the  death  of  an  amiable  son :  a  man,  of  whom  I 
think  it  may  be  truly  said,  that  no  one  knew  him  who  does 
not  lament  him.  I  look  upon  myself  as  having  a  friend, 
another  friend,  taken  from  me. 

'  Comfort,  dear  madam,  I  would  give  you  if  I  could :  but  I 
know  how  little  the  forms  of  consolation  can  avail.  Let  me, 
however,  counsel  you  not  to  waste  your  health  in  improfitable 
sorrow,  but  go  to  Bath,  and  endeavour  to  prolong  your  own 
life ;  but  when  we  have  all  done  all  that  we  can,  one  friend 
must  in  time  lose  the  other. — I  am,  dear  madam,  your  most 
humble  servant,  Sam.  Johnson. 

'April  23,  1781.' 

On  Tuesday,  May  8,  I  had  the  pleasure  of  agaiit 
dining  with  him  and  Mr.  Wilkes  at  Mr.  Dilly's.  No 
negotiation  was  now  required  to  bring  them  together ; 
for  Johnson  was  so  well  satisfied  with  the  former 
interview  that  he  was  very  glad  to  meet  Wilkes  again, 
who  was  this  day  seated  between  Dr.  Beattie  and  Dr. 
Johnson  (between  Truth  and  Reason,  as  General  Paoli 
said,  when  I  told  him  of  it).  Wilkes  :  '  I  have  been 
thinking.  Dr.  Johnson,  that  there  should  be  a  Bill 
brought  into  Parliament  that  the  controverted  elections 
for  Scotland  should  be  tried  in  that  country,  at  their 
own  Abbey  of  Holyrood  House,  and  not  here ;  for 


238  LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON        [1781 

the  consequence  of  trying  them  here  is,  that  we  have 
an  inundation  of  Scotchmen,  who  come  up  and  never 
go  back  again.  Now  here  is  Boswell,  who  is  come 
upon  the  election  for  his  own  county,  which  will  not 
last  a  fortnight.'  Johnson  :  *  Nay,  sir,  I  see  no 
reason  why  they  should  be  tried  at  all;  for,  you 
know,  one  Scotchman  is  as  good  as  another.'  Wilkes  : 
'  Pray,  Boswell,  how  much  may  be  got  in  a  year  by  an 
advocate  at  the  Scotch  bar  ? '  Boswell  :  '  I  believe, 
two  thousand  pounds.'  Wilkes:  'How  can  it  be 
possible  to  spend  that  money  in  Scotland?'  John- 
son: *Why,  sir,  the  money  may  be  spent  in  England; 
but  there  is  a  harder  question.  If  one  man  in  Scot- 
land gets  possession  of  two  thousand  pounds,  what 
remains  for  all  the  rest  of  the  nation  ? '  Wilkes  : 
'  You  know,  in  the  last  war,  the  immense  booty  which 
Thurot  carried  off  by  the  complete  plunder  of  seven 
Scotch  isles  ;  he  re-embarked  with  three  and  sixpence.' 
Here  again  Johnson  and  Wilkes  joined  in  extravagant 
sportive  raillery  upon  the  supposed  poverty  of  Scot- 
land, which  Dr.  Beattie  and  I  did  not  think  it  worth 
our  while  to  dispute. 

The  subject  of  quotation  being  introduced,  Mr. 
Wilkes  censured  it  as  pedantry.  Johnson  :  'No,  sir, 
it  is  a  good  thing;  there  is  a  community  of  mind  in  it. 
Classical  quotation  is  the  parole  of  literary  men  all 
over  the  world.'  Wilkes  :  '  Upon  the  Continent  they 
all  quote  the  Vulgate  Bible.  Shakespeare  is  chiefly 
quoted  here  ;  and  we  quote  also  Pope,  Prior,  Butler, 
Waller,  and  sometimes  Cowley.' 

We  talked  of  letter-writing. — Johnson  :  *  It  is  now 
become  so  much  the  fashion  to  publish  letters,  that  in 
order  to  avoid  it  I  put  as  little  into  mine  as  I  can.' 


jET.  72]     LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  239 

BoswELii :  'Do  what  you  will,  sir,  you  caiinot  avoid  it 
Should  you  even  write  as  ill  as  you  can,  your  letters 
would  be  published  as  curiosities ; 

"  Behold  a  miracle  !  instead  of  wit, 
See  two  dull  lines  with  Stanhope's  pencil  writ.'" 

He  gave  us  an  entertaining-  account  of  Bet  Mint, 
a  woman  of  the  town,  who,  with  some  eccentric  talents 
and  much  eflFrontery,  forced  herself  upon  his  acquaint- 
ance. 'Bet  (said  he)  wrote  her  own  life  in  verse,^ 
which  she  brought  to  me,  wishing  that  I  would  furnish 
her  with  a  Preface  to  it  (laughing).  I  used  to  say 
of  her,  that  she  was  generally  slut  and  drunkard  ; — 
occasionally,  whore  and  thief.  She  had,  however, 
genteel  lodgings,  a  spinnet  on  which  she  played,  and 
a  boy  that  walked  before  her  chair.  Poor  Bet  was 
taken  up  on  a  charge  of  stealing  a  counterpane,  and 

tried  at  the  Old  Bailey.      Chief  Justice  ,  who 

loved  a  wench,  summed  up  favourably,  and  she  was 
acquitted.  2     After  which.  Bet  said,  with  a  gay  and 

1  Johnson,  whose  memory  was  wonderfully  retentive,  remembered 
the  first  four  lines  of  this  curious  productionj  which  have  been  com- 
municated to  me  by  a  young  lady  of  his  acquaintance : 

•When  first  I  drew  my  vital  breath, 
A  little  minikin  I  came  upon  earth ; 
And  then  I  came  from  a  dark  abode. 
Into  this  gay  and  gaudy  world.' 

2  [The  account  which  Johnson  had  received  on  this  occasion  was  not 
quite  accurate.  Bet  was  tried  at  the  Old  Bailey  in  September  1738, 
not  by  the  Chief  Justice  here  alluded  to  [Willes]  (who,  however,  tried 
another  cause  on  the  same_  day),  but  before  Sir  William  Moreton, 
Recorder ;  and  she  was  acquitted,  not  in  consequence  of  z.ny  favourable 
summing  up  of  the  judge,  but  because  the  prosecutrix,  Mary  Walthow, 
could  not  prove  that  the  goods  charged  to  have  been  stolen  [a  counter- 
pane, a  silver  spoon,  two  napkins,  etc.]  were  her  property. 

Bet  does  not  appear  to  have  lived  at  that  time  in  a  very  ^^M/ff/ style ; 
for  she  paid  for  her  ready-furnished  room  in  Meard's  Court,  Dean  Street, 
Soho,  from  which  these  articles  were  alleged  to  be  stolen,  onlyyfz/« 
skillings  a  week. 

Mr.  James  Boswell  took  the  trouble  to  c:xamine  the  Sessions  Paper, 
to  ascertain  these  particulars, — M.] 


240         LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1781 

satisfied  air,  ''Now  that  the  counterpane  is  my  own, 
I  shall  make  a  petticoat  of  it." ' 

Talking  of  oratory,  Mr.  Wilkes  described  it  as 
accompanied  with  all  the  charms  of  poetical  expres- 
sion. Johnson  :  '  No,  sir ;  oratory  is  the  power  of 
beating  down  your  adversary's  arguments,  and  putting 
better  in  their  place.'  Wilkes  :  '  But  this  does  not 
move  the  passions.'  Johnson:  'He  must  be  a  weak 
man,  who  is  to  be  so  moved.'     Wilkes  (naming  a 

celebrated  orator) :  'Amidst  all  the  brilliancy  of ^'s  ^ 

imagination,  and  the  exuberance  of  his  wit,  there  is 
a  strange  want  of  taste.  It  was  observed  of  Apelles's 
Venus^  that  her  flesh  seemed  as  if  she  had  been 
nourished  by  roses ;  his  oratory  would  sometimes 
make  one  suspect  that  he  eats  potatoes  and  drinks 
whisky.' 

Mr.  Wilkes  observed,  how  tenacious  we  are  of  forms 
in  this  country  ;  and  gave  as  an  instance,  the  vote  of 
the  House  of  Commons  for  remitting  money  to  pay 
the  army  in  America  in  Portugal  pieces,  when,  in 
reality,  the  remittance  is  made  not  in  Portugal  money, 
but  in  our  specie.  Johnson  :  '  Is  there  not  a  law,  sir, 
against  exporting  the  current  coin  of  the  realm .'"' 
Wilkes  :  *  Yes,  sir ;  but  might  not  the  House  of 
Commons,  in  case  of  real  evident  necessity,  order  our 
own  current  coin  to  be  sent  into  our  own  colonies  } ' 
Here  Johnson,  with  that  quickness  of  recollection 
which  distinguished  him  so  eminently,  gave  the 
Middlesex  Patriot  an  admirable  retort  upon  his  own 
ground :    '  Sure,  sir,  you  don't  think  a  resolution  of 

1  [Burke.— A.  B.] 

*  [Mr.  Wilkes  mistookthe  objection  of  Euphranor  to  the  Thesetis  of 
Parrhasius  for  a  description  of  the  Venus  of  Apelles. — Vide  Plutarch, 
Bellone  an  pace  clariores  Athenienses.—  Kearney.] 


iET.  72]    LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON         241 

the  House  of  Commons  equal  to  the  law  of  the  land  ? ' 
Wilkes  (at  once  perceiving  the  application) :  *  God 
forbid,  sir !  *  To  hear  what  had  been  treated  with 
such  violence  in  The  False  Alarm,  now  turned  into 
pleasant  repartee,  was  extremely  agreeable.  Johnson 
went  on  :  *  Locke  observes  well,  that  a  prohibition  to 
export  the  current  coin  is  impolitic  ;  for  when  the 
balance  of  trade  happens  to  be  against  a  state,  the 
current  coin  must  be  exported.' 

Mr.  Beauclerk's  great  library  was  this  season  sold 
in  London  by  auction.  Mr.  Wilkes  said  he  wondered 
to  find  in  it  such  a  numerous  collection  of  sermons : 
seeming  to  think  it  strange  that  a  gentleman  of  Mr. 
Beauclerk's  character  in  the  gay  world  should  have 
chosen  to  have  many  compositions  of  that  kind. 
Johnson  :  '  Why,  sir,  you  are  to  consider  that  sermons 
make  a  considerable  branch  of  English  literature  ;  so 
that  a  library  must  be  very  imperfect  if  it  has  not  a 
numerous  collection  of  sermons  :  and  in  all  collections, 
sir,  the  desire  of  augmenting  them  grows  stronger  in 
proportion  to  the  advance  in  acquisition ;  as  motion 
is  accelerated  by  the  continuance  of  the  impetus.  Be- 
sides, sir  (looking  at  Mr.  Wilkes  with  a  placid  but 
significant  smile),  a  man  may  collect  sermons  with 
intention  of  making  himself  better  by  them.  I  hope 
Mr.  Beauclerk  intended  that  some  time  or  other  that 
should  be  the  case  with  him.' 

Mr.  Wilkes  said  to  me,  loud  enough  for  Dr.  John- 
son to  hear,  '  Dr.  Johnson  should  make  me  a  present 
of  his  Lives  of  the  Poets,  as  I  am  a  poor  patriot,  who 
cannot  aflFord  to  buy  them.'  Johnson  seemed  to  take 
no  notice  of  this  hint ;  but  in  a  little  while  he  called 
to  Mr.  Dilly,  *  Pray,  sir,  be  so  good  as  to  send  a  set 

TOL.  V.  Q 


242         LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1781 

of  my  Lives  to  Mr.  Wilkes,  with  my  compliments.' 
This  was  accordingly  done ;  and  Mr.  Wilkes  paid 
Dr.  Johnson  a  visit,  was  courteously  received,  and  sat 
with  him  a  long  time. 

The  company  gradually  dropped  away.  Mr.  DUly 
himself  was  called  down-stairs  upon  business ;  I  left 
the  room  for  some  time ;  when  I  returned,  I  was 
struck  with  observing  Dr.  Samuel  Johnson  and  John 
Wilkes,  Esq.,  literally  tete-a-tete ;  for  they  were 
reclined  upon  their  chairs,  with  their  heads  leaning 
almost  close  to  each  other,  and  talking  earnestly,  in  a 
kind  of  confidential  whisper,  of  the  personal  quarrel 
between  George  the  Second  and  the  King  of  Prussia. 
Such  a  scene  of  perfectly  easy  sociality  between  two 
such  opponents  in  the  war  of  political  controversy,  as 
that  which  I  now  beheld,  would  have  been  an  excellent 
subject  for  a  picture.  It  presented  to  my  mind  the 
happy  days  which  are  foretold  in  Scripture,  when  the 
lion  shall  lie  down  with  the  kid.^ 

After  this  day  there  was  another  pretty  long  in- 
terval, during  which  Dr.  Johnson  and  I  did  not  meet. 
When  I  mentioned  it  to  him  with  regret,  he  was 
pleased  to  say,  'Then,  sir,  let  us  live  double.' 

About  this  time  it  was  much  the  fashion  for  several 
ladies  to  have  evening  assemblies,  where  the  fair  sex 
might  participate  in  conversation  with  literary  and 
ingenious  men,  animated  by  a  desire  to  please.  These 
societies  were  dominated  Bluestocking  Clubs ;  the 
origin  of  which  title  being  little  known,  it  may  be 


}  When  I  mentioned  this  to  the  Bishop  of  Killaloe,  '  With  the  groat,' 
said  his  Lordship.     Such,  however,  was  the  engaging  politeness  and 

gleasantry  of  Mr.  WilkeSj   and  such  the  social  ^ood-humour  of  the 
bishop,  that  when  they  dined  together  at  Mr.  Dilly's,  where  I  also 
was,  they  were  mutually  agreeable. 


iET.  72]    LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON         243 

worth  while  to  relate  it.  One  of  the  most  eminent 
members  of  those  societies,  when  they  first  com- 
menced, was  Mr.  Stillingfleet,^  whose  dress  was  re- 
markably grave,  and  in  particular  it  was  observed 
that  he  wore  blue  stockings.  Such  was  the  excellence 
of  his  conversation,  that  his  absence  was  felt  as  so 
great  a  loss,  that  it  used  to  be  said,  '  We  can  do 
nothing  without  the  blue-stockings ' ;  and  thus  by 
degrees  the  title  was  established.  Miss  Hannah  More 
has  admirably  described  a  blue-stocking  club  in  her 
Bas  Bleu,  a  poem  in  which  many  of  the  persons  who 
were  most  conspicuous  there  are  mentioned. 

Johnson  was  prevailed  with  to  come  sometimes  into 
these  circles,  and  did  not  think  himself  too  grave  even 
for  the  lively  Miss  Monckton  (now  Countess  of  Cork), 
who  used  to  have  the  finest  bit  of  blue  at  the  house  of 
her  mother.  Lady  Gal  way.  Her  vivacity  enchanted 
the  sage,  and  they  used  to  talk  together  with  all 
imaginable  ease.  A  singular  instance  happened  one 
evening,  when  she  insisted  that  some  of  Sterne's  writ- 
ings were  very  pathetic.  Johnson  bluntly  denied  it. 
'  I  am  sure  (said  she)  they  have  afi"ected  me.'  '  Why 
(said  Johnson,  smiling,  and  rolling  himself  about), 
that  is,  because,  dearest,  you  're  a  dunce.*  When  she 
some  time  afterwards  mentioned  this  to  him,  he  said 
with  equal  truth  and  politeness,  'Madam,  if  I  had 
thought  so,  I  certainly  should  not  have  said  it' 

Another  evening,  Johnson's  kind  indulgence  towards 
me  had  a  pretty  difficult  trial.  I  had  dined  at  the 
Duke  of  Montrose's  with  a  very  agi'eeable  party,  and 
his  Grace,  according  to  his  usual  custom,  had  cir- 

1  Mr.  Benjamin  Stillingfleet,  author  of  tracts  relating  to  natural 
history,  etc 


244         LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1781 

ciliated  the  bottle  very  freely.  Lord  Graham  and  I 
went  together  to  Miss  Monckton's,  where  I  certainly 
was  in  extraordinary  spirits,  and  above  all  fear  or  awe. 
In  the  midst  of  a  great  number  of  persons  of  the  first 
rank,  amongst  whom  I  recollect  with  confusion,  a  noble 
lady  of  the  most  stately  decorum,  I  placed  myself  next 
to  Johnson,  and  thinking  myself  now  fully  his  match, 
talked  to  him  in  a  loud  and  boisterous  manner,  de- 
sirous to  let  the  company  know  how  I  could  contend 
with  Ajax.  I  particularly  remember  pressing  him 
upon  the  value  of  the  pleasures  of  the  imagination, 
and  as  an  illustration  of  my  argument,  asking  him, 

'  What,  sir,  supposing  I  were  to  fancy  that  the 

(naming  the  most  charming  Duchess  in  his  Majesty's 
dominions)  were  in  love  with  me,  should  I  not  be  very 
happy.'''  My  friend,  with  much  address,  evaded  my 
interrogatories,  and  kept  me  as  quiet  as  possible ;  but 
it  may  easily  be  conceived  how  he  must  have  felt.^ 

1  Next  day  I  endeavoured  to  give  what  had  happened  the  most  in- 
genious turn  I  could,  by  the  following  verses : 

TO  THE  HONOURABLE  MISS  MONCKTOK 

Not  that  with  th'  excellent  Montrose 

I  had  the  happiness  to  dine  : 
Not  that  I  late  from  table  rose ; 

From  Graham's  wit,  from  generous  wine : 
It  was  not  these  alone  which  led 

On  sacred  manners  to  encroach ; 
And  made  me  feel  what  most  I  dread, 

Johnson's  just  frown,  and  self-reproach  : 
But  when  I  enter'd,  not  abash'd. 

From  your  bright  eyes  were  shot  such  rays, 
At  once  mtoxication  flash'd, 

And  all  my  frame  was  in  a  blaze  t 
But  not  a  brilliant  blaze  I  own, 

Of  the  dull  smoke  I  'm  yet  ashamed ; 
I  was  a  dreary  ruin  grown. 

And  not  enlighten'd,  though  inflamed. 
Victim  at  once  to  wine  and  love, 

I  hope,  Maria,  you  '11  forgive ; 
While  I  invoke  the  powers  above, 

That  henceforth  I  may  wiser  live.' 
The  lady  was  generously  forgiving,  returned  me  an  obliging  answer, 


iET.  72]     LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON         245 

However,  when  a  few  days  afterwards  I  waited  upon 
him  and  made  an  apology,  he  behaved  with  the  most 
friendly  gentleness. 

While  I  remained  in  London  this  year,  Johnson 
and  I  dined  together  at  several  places.  I  recollect  a 
placid  day  at  Dr.  Butter's,  who  had  now  removed 
from  Derby  to  Lower  Grosvenor  Street,  London :  but 
of  his  conversation  on  that  and  other  occasions  during 
this  period,  I  neglected  to  keep  any  regular  record, 
and  shall  therefore  insert  here  some  miscellaneous 
articles  which  I  find  in  my  Johnsonian  notes. 

His  disorderly  habits,  when  *  making  provision  for 
the  day  that  was  passing  over  him,'  appear  from  the 
following  anecdote,  communicated  to  me  by  Mr.  John 
Nichols :  '  In  the  year  1763,  a  young  bookseller,  who 
was  an  apprentice  to  Mr.  Whiston,  waited  on  him 
with  a  subscription  to  his  Shakespeare;  and  observ- 
ing that  the  Doctor  made  no  entry  in  any  book  of  the 
subscriber's  name,  ventured  diffidently  to  ask  whether 
he  would  please  to  have  the  gentleman's  address,  that 
it  might  be  properly  inserted  in  the  printed  list  of 
subscribers.  "I  shall  print  no  List  of  Subscribers" 
said  Johnson,  with  great  abruptness ;  but  almost  im- 
mediately recollecting  himself,  added  very  compla- 
cently, "  Sir,  I  have  two  very  cogent  reasons  for  not 
printing  any  list  of  subscribers ; — one,  that  I  have  lost 
all  the  names, — the  other,  that  I  have  spent  all  the 
money."' 

Johnson  could  not  brook  appearing  to  be  worsted 
in  argument,  even  when  he  had  taken  the  wrong  side, 
to  show  the  force  and  dexterity  of  his  talents.    When, 

and  I  thus  obtained  an  Act  0/  ObNvion,  and  took  care  never  to  offend 
again. 


246         LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1781 

therefore,  he  perceived  that  his  opponent  gained 
ground,  he  had  recourse  to  some  sudden  mode  of 
rohust  sophistry.  Once  when  I  was  pressing  upon  him 
with  visible  advantage,  he  stopped  me  thus :  '  My 
dear  Boswell,  let's  have  no  more  of  this  ;  you'll  make 
nothing  of  it.  I  'd  rather  have  you  whistle  a  Scotch 
tune.' 

Care,  however,  must  he  taken  to  distinguish 
between  Johnson  when  he  'talked  for  victory,'  and 
Johnson  when  he  had  no  desire  but  to  inform  and 
illustrate.  '  One  of  Johnson's  principal  talents  (says 
an  eminent  friend  of  his  ^)  was  shown  in  maintaining 
the  wrong  side  of  an  argument,  and  in  a  splendid 
perversion  of  the  truth.  If  you  could  contrive  to 
have  his  fair  opinion  on  a  subject,  and  without  any 
bias  from  personal  prejudice,  or  from  a  wish  to  be 
victorious  in  argument,  it  was  wisdom  itself,  not  only 
convincing,  but  overpowering.' 

He  had,  however,  all  his  life  habituated  himself  to 
consider  conversation  as  a  trial  of  intellectual  vigour 
and  skill ;  and  to  this,  I  think,  we  may  venture  to 
ascribe  that  unexampled  richness  and  brilliancy  which 
appeared  in  his  own.  As  a  proof  at  once  of  his 
eagerness  for  colloquial  distinction,  and  his  high 
notion  of  this  eminent  friend,  he  once  addressed  him 
thus :  * ,  we  have  now  been  several  hours  to- 
gether ;  and  you  have  said  but  one  thing  for  which 
I  envied  you.* 

He  disliked  much  all  speculative  desponding  con- 
siderations, which  tended  to  discourage  men  from 
diligence  and  exertion.    He  was  in  this  like  Dr.  Shaw, 


J  [The  late  Right  Hon.  William  Gerrard  Hamilton.— M.l 


^T.  72]    LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON         247 

the  great  traveller,  who,  Mr.  Daines  Barrington  told 
me,  used  to  say,  'I  hate  a  cui  bono  man.'  Upon  being 
asked  by  a  friend  what  he  should  think  of  a  man  who 
was  apt  to  say  non  est  tanti; — 'That  he's  a  stupid 
fellow,  sir  (answered  Johnson).  What  would  these 
tanti  men  be  doing  the  while .'' '  When  I,  in  a  low- 
spirited  fit,  was  talking  to  him  with  indifference  of 
the  pursuits  which  generally  engage  us  in  a  course  of 
action,  and  inquiring  a  reason  for  taking  so  much 
trouble;  'Sir  (said  he,  in  an  animated  tone),  it  is 
driving  on  the  system  of  life.' 

He  told  me  that  he  was  glad  that  I  had,  by  General 
Oglethorpe's  means,  become  acquainted  with  Dr. 
Shebbeare.  Indeed  that  gentleman,  whatever  objec- 
tions were  made  to  him,  had  knowledge  and  abilities 
much  above  the  class  of  ordinary  writers,  and  deserves 
to  be  remembered  as  a  respectable  name  in  litera- 
ture, were  it  only  for  his  admirable  Letters  on  the 
English  Nation,  under  the  name  of  '  Battista  Angeloni, 
a  Jesuit' 

Johnson  and  Shebbeare  i  were  frequently  named 
together,  as  having  in  former  reigns  had  no  predilec- 
tion for  the  family  of  Hanover.  The  author  of  the 
celebrated  Heroic  Epistle  to  Sir  William  Chambers 
introduces  them  in  one  line,  in  a  list  of  those  '  who 
tasted  the  sweets  of  his  present  Majesty's  reign.' 
Such  was  Johnson's  candid  relish  of  the  merit  of  that 
satire,  that  he  allowed  Dr.  Goldsmith,  as  he  told  me, 
to  read  it  to  him  from  beginning  to  end,  and  did  not 
refme  his  praise  to  its  execution. 

Goldsmith  could  sometimes  take  adventurous  liber- 


^  I  lecoUect  a  ludicrous  paragraph  in  the  newspapers,  that  the  King 
had  pensioned  both  a  He-\xax  and  a  Ske-\>tax. 


248  LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON        [1781 

ties  with  him,  and  escape  unpunished.  Beauclerk 
told  me  that  when  Goldsmith  talked  of  a  project  for 
having  a  third  theatre  in  London  solelyjfor  the  exhibi- 
tion of  new  plays,  in  order  to  deliver  authors  from 
the  supposed  tyranny  of  managers,  Johnson  treated  it 
slightingly,  upon  which  Goldsmith  said,  '  Ay,  ay,  this 
may  be  nothing  to  you,  who  can  now  shelter  yourself 
behind  the  corner  of  a  pension ' ;  and  Johnson  bore 
this  with  good  humour. 

Johnson  praised  the  Earl  of  Carlisle's  poems, 
which  his  Lordship  had  published  with  his  name,  as 
not  disdaining  to  be  a  candidate  for  literary  &me. 
My  friend  was  of  opinion  that  when  a  man  of  rank 
appeared  in  that  character,  he  deserved  to  have  his 
merit  handsomely  allowed.^     In  this  I  think  he  was 


1  Men  of  rank  and  fortune,  however,  should  be  pretty_  well  issured 
of  having  a  real  claim  to  the  approbation  of  the  public,  as  vriters, 
before  they  venture  to  stand  forth.  Dryden,  in  his  preface  to  All  /or 
Love,  thus  expresses  himself : 

'  Men  of  pleasant  conversation  (at  least  esteemed  so),  and  endued 
with  a  trifling  kind  of  fancy,  perhaps  helped  out  by  a  smattering  of 
Latin,  are  ambitious  to  distinguish  themselves  from  the  herd  of  gentle- 
men, by  their  poetry : 

'  Rarus  enim  ferme  sensus  communis  in  ilia 
Fortuna.'  — Juv.  Sat.  viii.  73. 

And  IS  not  this  a  wretched  affectation,  not  to  be  contented  with  what 
fortune  has  done  for  them,  and  sit  down  quietly  with  their  estates,  biit 
they  must  call  their  wits  in  question,  and  needlessly  expose  their 
nakedness  to  public  view?  Not  considering  that  they  are  not  to 
expect  the  same  approbation  from  sober  men,  which  they  have  found 
from  their  flatterers  after  the  third  bottle.  If  a  little  glittering  in  dis- 
course has  passed  them  on  us  for  witty  men,  where  was  the  necessity  of 
undeceiving  the  world?  Would  a  man,  who  has  an  ill  title  to  an 
estate,  but  yet  is  in  possession  of  it,  would  he  bring  it  out  of  his  own 
accord  to  be  tried  at  Westminster?  We  who  write,  if  we  want  the 
talents,  yet  have  the  excuse  that  we  do  it  for  a  poor  subsistence ;  but 
what  can  be  urged  in  their  defence,  who,  not  having  the  vocation  of 
poverty  to  scribble,  out  of  mere  wantonness  take  pains  to  make  them- 
selves ridiculous?  Horace  was  certainly  in  the  right  where  he  said, 
'That  no  man  is  satisfied  with  his  own  condition."  A  poet  is  not 
pleased  because  he  is  not  rich ;  and  the  rich  are  discontented  because 
the  poets  will  not  admit  them  of  their  number. 


^T.  72]     LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  249 

more  liberal  than  Mr.  William  Whitehead,  in  his 
Elegy  to  Lord  Villiers,  in  which,  under  the  pretext 
of  'superior  toils,'  demanding  all  their  care,  he  dis- 
covers a  jealousy  of  the  great  paying  their  court  to 
the  Muses : 

' ....     to  the  chosen  few, 

Who  dare  excel,  thy  fost'ring  aid  aflford ; 
Their  arts,  their  magic  powers,  with  honoiirs  due 
Exalt ; — but  be  thyself  what  they  record.' 

Johnson  had  called  twice  on  the  Bishop  of  KUlaloe 
before  his  Lordship  set  out  for  Ireland,  having  missed 
him  the  first  time.  He  said,  '  It  would  have  hung 
heavy  on  my  heart  if  I  had  not  seen  him.  No  man 
ever  paid  more  attention  to  another  than  he  has  done 
to  me ;  ^  and  I  have  neglected  him,  not  wilfully,  but 
from  being  otherwise  occupied.  Always,  sir,  set  a 
high  value  on  spontaneous  kindness.  He  whose  in- 
clination prompts  him  to  cultivate  your  friendship  of 
his  own  accord,  will  love  you  more  than  one  whom 
you  have  been  at  pains  to  attach  to  you.' 

Johnson  told  me  that  he  was  once  much  pleased 


1  This  gave  me  very  great  pleasure,  for  there  had  been  once  a  pretty 
smart  altercation  between  Dr.  Barnard  and  him,  upon  a  question, 
whether  a  man  could  improve  himself  after  the  age  of  forty-five  ;  when 
Johnson,  in  a  hasty  humour,  expressed  himself  in  a  manner  not  quite 
civil.  Dr.  Barnard  made  it  the  subject  of  a  copy  of  pleasant  verses,  in 
which  he  supposed  himself  to  learn  different  perfections  from  different 
men.    They  concluded  with  delicate  irony : 

'  Johnson  shall  teach  me  how  to  place 
In  fairest  light  each  borrow'd  grace ; 

From  him  I  '11  learn  to  write : 
Copy  bis  clear  familiar  style, 
And  by  the  rouehness  of  his  file 
Grow,  like  himself,  polite.' 

I  know  not  whether  Johnson  ever  saw  the  poem,  but  I  bad  occasion 
to  find  that  as  Dr.  Barnard  and  he  knew  each  other  better,  their 
mutual  regard  increased. 


250  LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON       [1781 

to  find  that  a  carpenter,  who  lived  near  him,  was  very 
ready  to  show  him  some  things  in  his  business  which 
he  wished  to  see  :  'It  was  paying  (said  he)  respect  to 
literature.' 

I  asked  him  if  he  was  not  dissatisfied  with  having 
so  small  a  share  of  wealth,  and  none  of  those  distinc- 
tions in  the  state  which  are  the  objects  of  ambition. 
He  had  only  a  pension  of  three  hundred  a  year.  Why 
was  he  not  in  such  circumstances  as  to  keep  his  coach  ? 
Why  had  he  not  some  considerable  office  ?  Johnson  : 
'  Sir,  I  have  never  complained  of  the  world  ;  nor  do  I 
think  that  I  have  reason  to  complain.  It  is  rather  to 
be  wondered  at  that  I  have  so  much.  My  pension  is 
more  out  of  the  usual  course  of  things  than  any  instance 
that  I  have  known.  Here,  sir,  was  a  man  avowedly  no 
friend  to  Government  at  the  time,  who  got  a  pension 
without  asking  for  it.  I  never  courted  the  great ; 
they  sent  for  me ;  but  I  think  they  now  give  me  up. 
They  are  satisfied :  they  have  seen  enough  of  me.' 
Upon  my  observing  that  I  could  not  believe  this,  for 
they  must  certainly  be  highly  pleased  by  his  conversa- 
tion ;  conscious  of  his  own  superiority,  he  answered, 
'No,  sir ;  great  lords  and  great  ladies  don't  love  to 
have  their  mouths  stopped.'  This  was  very  expressive 
of  the  effect  which  the  force  of  his  understanding  and 
brilliancy  of  his  fancy  could  not  but  produce ;  and, 
to  be  sure,  they  must  have  found  themselves  strangely 
diminished  in  his  company.  When  I  warmly  declared 
how  happy  I  was  at  all  times  to  heax  him  ; — '  Yes, 
sir  (said  he);  but  if  you  were  Lord  Chancellor,  it 
would  not  be  so  :  you  would  then  consider  your  own 
dignity.' 

There  was  much  truth  and  knowledge  of  human 


MT.72]    LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON         251 

nature  in  this  remark.  But  certainly  one  should  think 
that  in  whatever  elevated  state  of  life  a  man  who  knew 
the  value  of  the  conversation  of  Johnson  might  be 
placed,  though  he  might  prudently  avoid  a  situation 
in  which  he  might  appear  lessened  by  comparison ; 
yet  he  would  frequently  gratify  himself  in  private  with 
the  participation  of  the  rich  intellectual  entertainment 
which  Johnson  could  furnish.  Strange,  however,  it  is 
to  consider  how  few  of  the  great  sought  his  society ; 
80  that  if  one  were  disposed  to  take  occasion  for  satire 
on  that  account,  very  conspicuous  objects  present  them- 
selves. His  noble  friend.  Lord  Elibank,  well  observed 
that  if  a  great  man  procured  an  interview  with  John- 
son, and  did  not  wish  to  see  him  more,  it  showed  a 
mere  idle  curiosity,  and  a  wretched  want  of  relish  for 
extraordinary  powers  of  mind.  Mrs.  Thrale,  justly 
and  wittily,  accounted  for  such  conduct  by  saying  that 
Johnson's  conversation  was  by  much  too  strong  for 
a  person  accustomed  to  obsequiousness  and  flattery ; 
it  was  mustard  in  a  young  child's  mouth  I 

One  day,  when  I  told  him  that  I  was  a  zealous 
Tory,  but  not  enough  '  according  to  knowledge,'  and 
should  be  obliged  to  him  for  'a  reason,'  he  was  so 
candid,  and  expressed  himself  so  well,  that  I  begged 
of  him  to  repeat  what  he  had  said,  and  I  wrote  down 
as  follows  : 

OF   TOBY  AND   WHIO 

*A  wise  Tory  and  a  wise  Whig,  I  believe,  will  agree. 
Their  principles  are  the  same,  though  their  modes  of  thinking 
are  different.  A  high  Tory  makes  government  unintelligible : 
it  is  lost  in  the  clouds.  A  violent  Whig  makes  it  impractic- 
able :  he  is  for  allowing  so  much  liberty  to  every  man,  that  there 
is  not  power  enough  to  govern  any  man.    The  prejudice  of  the 


262  LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON        [1781 

Tory  is  for  establishment ;  the  prejudice  of  the  Whig  is  for 
innovation.  A  Tory  does  not  wish  to  give  more  real  power 
to  Grovemment,  but  that  Government  should  have  more 
reverence.  Then  they  differ  as  to  the  Church.  The  Tory 
is  not  for  giving  more  legal  power  to  the  Clergy,  but  wishes 
they  should  have  a  considerable  influence  founded  upon  the 
opinion  of  mankind :  the  Whig  is  for  limiting  and  watching 
them  with  a  narrow  jealousy.' 


TO   MR.  PERKINS 

'  Sib, — However  often  I  have  seen  you  I  have  hitherto  for- 
gotten the  note,  but  I  have  now  sent  it ;  with  my  good  wishes 
for  the  prosperity  of  you  and  your  partner,  ^  of  whom,  from 
our  short  conversation,  I  could  not  judge  otherwise  than 
favourably. — I  am,  sir,  your  most  humble  servant, 

'  Sam.  Johnson. 

'June  2,  1781.' 

On  Saturday,  June  2,  I  set  out  for  Scotland,  and 
had  promised  to  pay  a  visit,  in  my  way,  as  I  sometimes 
did,  at  Southill,  in  Bedfordshire,  at  the  hospitable 
mansion  of  Squire  Dilly,  the  elder  brother  of  my 
worthy  friends,  the  booksellers,  in  the  Poultry.  Dr. 
Johnson  agreed  to  be  of  the  party  this  year,  with  Mr. 
Charles  Dilly  and  me,  and  to  go  and  see  Lord  Bute's 
seat  at  Luton  Hoe.  He  talked  little  to  us  in  the 
carriage,  being  chiefly  occupied  in  reading  Dr. 
Watson's^  second  volume  of  Chemical  Essays,  which 


1  Mr.  Barclay,  a  descendant  of  Robert  Barclay  of  Ury,  the  celebrated 
apologistof  the  people  called  Quakers,  and  remarkable  for  maintaining 
the  principles  of  his  venerable  progenitor,  with  as  much  of  the  elegance 
of  modern  manners  as  is  consistent  with  primitive  simplicity. 

2  Now  Bishop  of  Llandaff,  one  of  the  poorest  bishoprics  in  this 
kingdom.  His  Lordship  has  written  with  much  zeal  to  show  the 
propriety  of  equalising  the  revenues  of  bishops.  He  has  informed  us 
that  he  has  burned  all  his  chemical  papers.  The  friends  of  our  excellent 
constitution,  now  assailed  on  every  side  by  innovators  and  levellers, 
would  have  less  regretted  the  suppression  of  some  of  his  Lordship's 
other  writings. 


iET.  72]    LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  265 

he  liked  very  well,  and  his  own  Prince  of  Abyssinia, 
on  which  he  seemed  to  he  intensely  fixed  ;  having  told 
us,  that  he  had  not  looked  at  it  since  it  was  first 
published.  I  happened  to  take  it  out  of  my  pocket 
this  day,  and  he  seized  upon  it  with  avidity.  He 
pointed  out  to  me  the  following  remarkable  passage  : 
'  By  what  means  (said  the  prince)  are  the  Europeans 
thus  powerful ;  or  why,  since  they  can  so  easily  visit 
Asia  and  Africa  for  trade  or  conquest,  cannot  the 
Asiatics  and  Africans  invade  their  coasts,  plant  colonies 
in  their  ports,  and  give  laws  to  their  natural  princes  ? 
The  same  wind  that  carried  them  back  would  bring 
us  thither.'  '  They  are  more  powerful,  sir,  than  we 
(answered  Imlac),  because  they  are  wiser.  Know- 
ledge wiU  always  predominate  over  ignorance,  as  man 
governs  the  other  animals.  But  why  their  knowledge 
is  more  than  ours,  I  know  not  what  reason  can  be 
given,  but  the  unsearchable  will  of  the  Supreme  Being.* 
He  said,  'This,  sir,  no  man  can  explain  otherwise.' 

We  stopped  at  Welwin,  where  I  wished  much  to 
see,  in  company  with  Johnson,  the  residence  of  the 
author  of  Night  Thoughts,  which  was  then  possessed 
by  his  son,  Mr.  Young.  Here  some  address  was 
requisite,  for  I  was  not  acquainted  with  Mr.  Young, 
and  had  I  proposed  to  Dr.  Johnson  that  we  should 
send  to  him  he  would  have  checked  my  wish,  and 
perhaps  been  offended.  I  therefore  concerted  with 
Mr.  Dilly  that  I  should  steal  away  from  Dr.  Johnson 
and  him,  and  try  what  reception  I  could  procure  from 
Mr.  Young  ;  if  unfavourable,  nothing  was  to  be  said ; 
but  if  agreeable,  I  should  return  and  notify  it  to 
them.  I  hastened  to  Mr.  Young's,  found  he  was  at 
home,  sent  in  word  that  a  gentleman  desired  to  wait 


254         LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1781 

upon  him,  and  was  shown  into  a  parlour,  where  he 
and  a  young  lady,  his  daughter,  were  sitting.  He 
appeared  to  be  a  plain,  civil,  country  gentleman  ;  and 
when  I  begged  pardon  for  presuming  to  trouble  him, 
but  that  I  wished  much  to  see  his  place,  if  he  would 
give  me  leave ;  he  behaved  very  courteously,  and 
answered,  'By  all  means,  sir;  we  are  just  going  to 
drink  tea ;  will  you  sit  down  ? '  I  thanked  him,  but 
said  that  Dr.  Johnson  had  come  with  me  from  London, 
and  I  must  return  to  the  inn  to  drink  tea  with  him  ; 
that  my  name  was  Boswell ;  I  had  travelled  with  him 
in  the  Hebrides.  'Sir  (said  he),  I  should  think  it  a 
great  honour  to  see  Dr.  Johnson  here.  AVill  you 
allow  me  to  send  for  him  ? '  Availing  myself  of  this 
opening,  I  said  that  'I  would  go  myself  and  bring 
him,  when  he  had  drunk  tea ;  he  knew  nothing  of  my 
calling  here.'  Having  been  thus  successful,  I  hastened 
back  to  the  inn,  and  informed  Dr.  Johnson  that 
'  Mr.  Young,  son  of  Dr.  Young,  the  author  of  Night 
Thoughts,  whom  I  had  just  left,  desired  to  have  the 
honour  of  seeing  him  at  the  house  where  his  father 
lived.'  Dr.  Johnson  luckily  made  no  inquiry  how 
this  invitation  had  arisen,  but  agreed  to  go,  and  when 
we  entered  Mr.  Young's  parlour,  he  addressed  him 
with  a  very  polite  bow,  '  Sir,  I  had  a  curiosity  to  come 
and  see  this  place.  I  had  the  honour  to  know  that 
great  man,  your  father.'  We  went  into  the  garden, 
where  we  found  a  gravel  walk,  on  each  side  of  which 
was  a  row  of  trees,  planted  by  Dr.  Young,  which 
formed  a  handsome  Gothic  arch.  Dr.  Johnson  called 
it  a  fine  grove.     I  beheld  it  with  reverence. 

We  sat  some  time  in  the  summer-house,  on  the 
outside  wall  of  which  was  inscribed,  '  AmbiUantes  in 


JET.72]    LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  255 

horto  audiebant  vocetn  Dei ' ;  and  in  reference  to  a  brook 
by  which  it  is  situated,  '  Vivendi  recte  qui  prorogat 
horam,'  etc.  I  said  to  Mr.  Young  that  I  had  been 
told  his  father  was  cheerful.  '  Sir  (said  he),  he  was 
too  well-bred  a  man  not  to  be  cheerful  in  company ; 
but  he  was  gloomy  when  alone.  He  never  was  cheerful 
after  my  mother's  death,  and  he  had  met  with  many 
disappointments.'  Dr.  Johnson  observed  to  me  after- 
ward, 'That  this  was  no  favourable  account  of  Dr. 
Young ;  for  it  is  not  becoming  in  a  man  to  have  so 
little  acquiescence  in  the  ways  of  Providence  as  to  be 
gloomy  because  he  has  not  obtained  as  much  prefer- 
ment as  he  expected  ;  nor  to  continue  gloomy  for  the 
loss  of  his  wife.  Grief  has  its  time.'  The  last  part 
of  this  censure  was  theoretically  made.  Practically, 
we  know  that  grief  for  the  loss  of  a  wife  may  be 
continued  very  long,  in  proportion  as  affection  has 
been  sincere.  No  man  knew  this  better  than  Dr. 
Johnson. 

We  went  into  the  church,  and  looked  at  the  monu- 
ment erected  by  Mr.  Young  to  his  father.  Mr.  Young 
mentioned  an  anecdote,  that  his  father  had  received 
several  thousand  pounds  of  subscription-money  for 
his  Universal  Passion,  but  had  lost  it  in  the  South 
Sea.^  Dr.  Johnson  thought  this  must  be  a  mistake; 
for  he  had  never  seen  a  subscription-book. 

Upon  the  road  we  talked  of  the  uncertainty  of 
profit  with  which  authors  and  booksellers  engage  in 
the  publication  of  literary  works.  Johnson  :  *  My 
judgment  I  have  found  is  no  certain  rule  as  to  the 


1  [This  assertion  is  disproved  by  a  comparison  of  dates.  The  first 
four  satires  of  Young  were  published  in  1725.  The  South  Sea  scheme 
(which  appears  to  be  meant)  was  in  1720. — M.] 


266  LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON        [1781 

sale  of  a  book.'  Bosweuj  :  'Pray,  sir,  have  you  been 
much  plagued  with  authors  sending  you  their  works 
to  revise  ? '  Johnson  :  '  No,  sir  ;  I  have  been  thought 
a  sour,  surly  fellow. '  Boswell  :  '  Very  lucky  for  you, 
sir, — in  that  respect.'  I  must,  however,  observe  that 
notwithstanding  what  he  now  said,  which  he  no  doubt 
imagined  at  the  time  to  be  the  fact,  there  was  perhaps 
no  man  who  more  frequently  yielded  to  the  solicita- 
tions even  of  very  obscure  authors,  to  read  their 
manuscripts,  or  more  liberally  assisted  them  with 
advice  and  correction. 

He  found  himself  very  happy  at  Squire  Dilly's, 
where  there  is  always  abundance  of  excellent  fare, 
and  hearty  welcome. 

On  Sunday,  June  3,  we  all  went  to  Southill  Church, 
which  is  very  near  to  Mr.  Dilly's  house.  It  being  the 
first  Sunday  of  the  month,  the  holy  sacrament  was 
administered,  and  I  stayed  to  partake  of  it.  When  I 
came  afterwards  into  Dr.  Johnson's  room,  he  said, 
'  You  did  right  to  stay  and  receive  the  communion : 
I  had  not  thought  of  it.'  This  seemed  to  imply  that 
he  did  not  choose  to  approach  the  altar  without  a 
previous  preparation,  as  to  which  good  men  entertain 
different  opinions,  some  holding  that  it  is  irreverent 
to  partake  of  that  ordinance  without  considerable 
premeditation ;  others,  that  whoever  is  a  sincere 
Christian,  and  in  a  proper  frame  of  mind  to  discharge 
any  other  ritual  duty  of  our  religion,  may  without 
scruple  discharge  this  most  solemn  one.  A  middle 
notion  I  believe  to  be  the  just  one,  which  is,  that 
communicants  need  not  think  a  long  train  of  pre- 
paratory forms  indispensably  necessary ;  but  neither 
should  they  rashly  and  lightly  venture  upon  so  awful 


JET.  72]    LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON         257 

and  mysterious  an  institution.  Christians  must  judge 
each  for  himself  what  degree  of  retirement  and  self- 
examination  is  necessary  upon  each  occasion. 

Being  in  a  frame  of  mind^  which  I  hope  for  the 
felicity  of  human  nature  many  experience,  in  fine 
weather,  at  the  country-house  of  a  friend,  consoled 
and  elevated  by  pious  exercises,  I  expressed  myself 
with  an  unrestrained  fervour  to  my  'Guide,  Philo- 
sopher, and  Friend ' :  '  My  dear  sir,  I  would  fain  be 
a  good  man  ;  and  I  am  very  good  now.  I  fear  God, 
and  honour  the  King ;  I  wish  to  do  no  ill,  and  to  be 
benevolent  to  all  mankind.'  He  looked  at  me  with  a 
benignant  indulgence  ;  but  took  occasion  to  give  me 
wise  and  salutary  caution.  'Do  not,  sir,  accustom 
yourself  to  trust  to  impressions.  There  is  a  middle 
state  of  mind  between  conviction  and  hypocrisy,  of 
which  many  are  conscious.  By  trusting  to  impres- 
sions a  man  may  gradually  come  to  yield  to  them,, 
and  at  length  be  subject  to  them,  so  as  not  to  be  a 
free  agent,  or  what  is  the  same  thing  in  efi"ect,  to 
suppose  that  he  is  not  a  free  agent.  A  man  who  is  in 
that  state  should  not  be  suflFered  to  live  ;  if  he  declares 
he  cannot  help  acting  in  a  particular  way,  and  is 
irresistibly  impelled,  there  can  be  no  confidence  in 
him,  no  more  than  in  a  tiger.  But,  sir,  no  man 
believes  himself  to  be  impelled  irresistibly  ;  we  know 
that  he  who  says  he  believes  it,  lies.  Favourable 
impressions  at  particular  moments  as  to  the  state  of 
our  souls  may  be  deceitful  and  dangerous.  In  general 
no  man  can  be  sure  of  his  acceptance  with  God ; 
some,  indeed,  may  have  had  it  revealed  to  them 
St.  Paul,  who  wrought  miracles,  may  have  had  a 
miracle  wrought  on  himself,  and  may  have  obtained 

VOL.  V.  R 


268  LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON        [1781 

supernatural  assurance  of  pardon,  and  mercy,  and 
beatitude  ;  yet  St.  Paul,  though  he  expresses  strong 
hope,  also  expresses  fear  lest,  having  preached  to 
others,  he  himself  should  be  a  castaway.' 

The  opinion  of  a  learned  bishop  of  our  acquaintance, 
as  to  there  being  merit  in  religious  faith,  being  men- 
tioned ; — Johnson  :  '  Why  yes,  sir,  the  most  licen- 
tious man,  were  hell  open  before  him,  would  not  take 
the  most  beautiful  strumpet  to  his  arms.  We  must, 
as  the  Apostle  says,  live  by  faith,  not  by  sight. ' 

I  talked  to  him  of  original  sin,^  in  consequence  of 
the  fall  of  man,  and  of  the  atonement  made  by  our 
Saviour.  After  some  conversation,  which  he  desired 
me  to  remember,  he,  at  my  request,  dictated  to  me  as 
follows  : 

'  With  respect  to  original  sin,  the  inquiry  is  not  necessary ; 
for,  whatever  is  the  cause  of  human  corruption,  men  are 
evidently  and  confessedly  so  corrupt  that  all  the  laws  of 
heaven  and  earth  are  insufficient  to  restrain  them  from  crimes. 

'Whatever  difficulty  there  may  be  in  the  conception  of 
vicarious  punishments,  it  is  an  opinion  which  has  had  pos- 
session of  mankind  in  all  ages.  There  is  no  nation  that  has 
not  used  the  practice  of  sacrifices.  Whoever,  therefore,  denies 
the  propriety  of  vicarious  pxmishments,  holds  an  opinion 
which  the  sentiments  and  practice  of  mankind  have  contra- 
dicted from  the  beginning  of  the  world.  The  great  sacrifice 
for  the  sins  of  mankind  was  offered  at  the  death  of  the 


1  Dr.  Ogden,  in  his  second  sermon  On  the  Articles  of  the  Christian 
Faith,  with  admirable  acuteness  thus  addresses  the  opposers  of  that 
doctrine,  which  accounts  for  the  confusion,  sin,  and  misery,  which  we 
find  in  this  life  :  '  It  would  be  severe  in  God,  you  think,  to  degrade  us 
to  such  a  sad  state  as  this,  for  the  offence  of  our  first  parents :  but  you 
can  allow  him  to  place  us  in  it  without  any  inducement.  Are  our 
calamities  lessened  for  not  being  ascribed  to  Adam?  If  your  condition 
be  unhappy,  is  it  not  still  unhappy,  whatever  was  the  occasion  ?  with 
the  aggravation  of  this  reflection,  that  if  it  was  as  good  as  it  was  at  first 
designed,  there  seems  to  be  somewhat  the  less  reason  to  look  for  its 
amendment.' 


iET.  72]     LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  269 

Messiah,  who  is  called  in  Scripture,  "The  Lamb  of  God  that 
taketh  away  the  sins  of  the  world."  To  judge  of  the  reason- 
ableness of  the  scheme  of  redemption  it  must  be  considered 
as  necessary  to  the  government  of  the  universe,  that  God 
should  make  known  his  perpetual  and  irreconcilable  detesta- 
tion of  moral  evil.  He  might  indeed  punish,  and  punish  only 
the  offenders ;  but  as  the  end  of  punishment  is  not  revenge 
of  crimes,  but  propagation  of  virtue,  it  was  more  becoming 
the  divine  clemency  to  find  another  manner  of  proceeding, 
less  destructive  to  man,  and  at  least  equally  powerful  to 
promote  goodness.  The  end  of  punishment  is  to  reclaim  and 
warn.  That  punishment  will  both  reclaim  and  warn,  which 
shows  evidently  such  abhorrence  of  sin  in  Grod  as  may  deter 
us  from  it,  or  strike  us  with  dread  of  vengeance  when  we  have 
committed  it.  This  is  effected  by  vicarious  punishment. 
Nothing  could  more  testify  the  opposition  between  the  nature 
of  God  and  moral  evil,  or  more  amply  display  his  justice,  to 
men  and  angels,  to  all  orders  and  successions  of  beings,  than 
that  it  was  necessary  for  the  highest  and  purest  nature,  even 
for  divinity  itself,  to  pacify  the  demands  of  vengeance  by  a 
painful  death  ;  of  which  the  natural  effect  will  be,  that  when 
justice  is  appeased,  there  is  a  proper  place  for  the  exercise 
of  mercy ;  and  that  such  propitiation  shall  supply,  in  some 
degree,  the  imperfections  of  our  obedience,  and  the  inefficacy 
of  our  repentance :  for,  obedience  and  repentance,  such  as  we 
can  perform,  are  still  necessary.  Our  Saviour  has  told  us 
that  he  did  not  come  to  destroy  the  law,  but  to  fulfil;  to 
fulfil  the  typical  law,  by  the  performance  of  what  those  types 
had  foreshown;  and  the  moral  law,  by  precepts  of  greater 
purity  and  higher  exaltation.' 

[Here  he  said,  *  God  bless  you  with  it.'  I  acknow- 
ledged myself  much  obliged  to  him ;  but  I  begged 
that  be  would  go  on  as  to  the  propitiation  being  the 
chief  object  of  our  most  holy  faith.  He  then  dictated 
this  one  other  paragraph  :] 

'  The  peculiar  doctrine  of  Christianity  is  that  of  a  universal 
sacrifice  and  perpetual  propitiation.      Other  prophets  only 


260  LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON        [1781 

proclaimed  the  will  and  the  threatenings  of  God.     Christ 
satisfied  his  justice.' 

The  Reverend  Mr.  Palmer/  Fellow  of  Queens' 
College,  Cambridge,  dined  with  us.  He  expressed  a 
wish  that  a  better  provision  were  made  for  parish 
clerks.  Johnson  :  '  Yes,  sir,  a  parish  clerk  should  be 
a  man  who  is  able  to  make  a  will,  or  write  a  letter  for 
anybody  in  the  parish.' 

I  mentioned  Lord  Monboddo's  notion  that  the 
ancient  Egyptians,  with  all  their  learning,  and  all 
their  arts,  were  not  only  black,  but  woolly-haired. 
Mr.  Palmer  asked  how  did  it  appear  upon  examining 
the  mummies  }    Dr.  Johnson  approved  of  this  test. 

Although  upon  most  occasions  I  never  heard  a  more 
strenuous  advocate  for  the  advantages  of  wealth  than 
Dr.  Johnson,  he  this  day,  I  know  not  from  what 
caprice,  took  the  other  side.     '  I  have  not  observed 

1  This  unfortunate  person,  whose  full  name  was  Thomas  Fysche 
Palmer,  afterwards  went  to  Dundee,  in  Scotland,  where  he  officiated  as 
minister  to  a  congregation  of  the  sect  who  call  themselves  Unitarians, 
from  a  notion  that  they  distinctively  worship  one  God,  because  they 
deny  the  mysterious  doctrine  of  the  Trinity.  They  do  not  advert  that 
the  great  body  of  the  Christian  Church  in  maintaining  that  mystery, 
maintain  also  the  Unity  of  the  Godhead:  the  '  Trinity  in  Unity  ! — 
three  persons  and  one  God.'  The  Church  humbly  adores  the  Divinity 
as  exhibited  in  the  Holy  Scriptures.  The  Unitarian  sect  vainly  pre- 
sumes to  comprehend  and  define  the  Almighty.  Mr.  Palmer  having 
heated  his  mind  with  political  speculations,  became  so  much  dissatisfied 
with  our  excellent  Constitution,  as  to  compose,  publish,  and  circulate 
writings,  which  were  found  to  be  so  seditious  and  dangerous,  that  upon 
being  found  guilty  by  a  jury,  the  Court  of  Justiciary  in  Scotland  sen- 
tenced him  to  transportation  for  fourteen  [seven]  years.  A  loud  clamour 
against  this  sentence  was  made  by  some  members  of  both  Houses  of 
Parliament ;  but  both  Houses  approved  of  it  by  a  great  majority  ;  and 
he  was  conveyed  to  the  settlement  for  convicts  m  New  South  Wales. 

[Mr.  T.  F.  Palmer  was  of  Queens'  College,  in  Cambridge,  where  he 
took  the  degree  of  Master  of  Arts  in  1772,  and  that  of  S.  T.  B.  in  1781. 
He  died  on  his  return  from  Botany  Bay  in  the  year  1803. — M.] 

[The  visitor  to  Edinburgh  may  now  notice  the  column  in  the  burying- 
ground  below  the  Calton  Hill,  raised  to  the  memory  of  Muir,  Palmer, 
and  the  other  prisoners  who  were  sent  across  the  seas  for  advocating 
the  abolition  of  rotten  boroughs. — A.  B.] 


JET.72]    LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  261 

(said  he)  that  men  of  very  large  fortunes  enjoy  any- 
thing extraordinary  that  makes  happiness.  What  has 
the  Duke  of  Bedford  ?  What  has  the  Duke  of  Devon 
shire?  The  only  great  instance  that  I  have  ever 
known  of  the  enjoyment  of  wealth  was  that  of  Jamaica 
Dawkins,  who,  going  to  visit  Palmyra,  and  hearing 
that  the  way  was  infested  by  robbers,  hired  a  troop 
of  Turkish  horse  to  guard  him.' 

Dr.  Gibbons,  the  dissenting  minister,  being  men- 
tioned, he  said,  '  I  took  to  Dr.  Gibbons.'  And  address- 
ing himself  to  Mr.  Charles  Dilly,  added  :  '  1  shall  be 
glad  to  see  him.  Tell  him  if  he  '11  call  on  me,  and 
dawdle  over  a  dish  of  tea  in  an  afternoon,  I  shall  take 
it  kind.' ' 

The  Reverend  Mr.  Smith,  Vicar  of  Southill,  a  very 
respectable  man,  with  a  very  agreeable  family,  sent 
an  invitation  to  us  to  drink  tea.  I  remarked  Dr. 
Johnson's  very  respectful  politeness.  Though  always 
fond  of  changing  the  scene,  he  said,  '  We  must  have 
Mr.  Dilly's  leave.  We  cannot  go  from  your  house, 
sir,  without  your  permission.*  We  all  went,  and  were 
well  satisfied  with  our  visit.  I  however  remember 
nothing  particular,  except  a  nice  distinction  which 
Dr.  Johnson  made  with  respect  to  the  power  of 
memory,  maintaining  that  forgetfulness  was  a  man's 
own  fault.  '  To  remember  and  to  recollect  (said  he) 
are  different  things.  A  man  has  not  the  power  to 
recollect  what  is  not  in  his  mind  ;  but  when  a  thing 
is  in  his  mind  he  may  remember  it.' 

The  remark  was  occasioned  by  my  leaning  back  on 
a  chair,  which  a  little  before  I  had  perceived  to  be 

1  [This  is  an  excellent  example  of  Johnson's  coUonuial  manner.— 
A.  B.] 


262  LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON        [1781 

broken,  and  pleading  forgetfulness  as  an  excuse ; 
*  Sir  (said  he),  its  being  broken  was  certainly  in  your 
mind.' 

"WTien  I  observed  that  a  householder  was  in 
general  very  timorous  ; — Johnson  :  '  No  wonder,  sir ; 
he  is  afraid  of  being  shot  getting  into  a  house,  or 
hanged  when  he  has  got  out  of  it.' 

He  told  us  that  he  had  in  one  day  written  six  sheets 
of  a  translation  from  the  French  ;  adding,  '  I  should 
be  glad  to  see  it  now.  I  wish  that  I  had  copies  of  all 
the  pamphlets  written  against  me,  as  it  is  said  Pope 
had.  Had  I  known  that  I  should  make  so  much 
noise  in  the  world,  I  should  have  been  at  pains  to 
collect  them.  I  believe  there  is  hardly  a  day  in  which 
there  is  not  something  about  me  in  the  newspapers.' 

On  Monday,  June  4,  we  all  went  to  Luton  Hoe,  to 
see  Lord  Bute's  magnificent  seat,  for  which  I  had 
obtained  a  ticket.  As  we  entered  the  park  I  talked 
in  a  high  style  of  my  old  friendship  with  Lord  Mount- 
stuart,  and  said,  'I  shall  probably  be  much  at  this 
place.'  The  sage,  aware  of  human  vicissitudes,  gently 
checked  me  :  'Don't  you  be  too  sure  of  that.'  He 
made  two  or  three  peculiar  observations ;  as  when 
shown  the  botanical  garden,  'Is  not  every  garden  a 
botanical  garden  ? '  When  told  that  there  was  a  shrub- 
bery to  the  extent  of  several  miles  :  'That  is  making  a 
very  foolish  use  of  the  ground  ;  a  little  of  it  is  very 
well.'  When  it  was  proposed  that  we  should  walk  on 
the  pleasure-ground  :  '  Don't  let  us  fatigue  ourselves. 
Why  should  we  walk  there  ?  Here 's  a  fine  tree ;  let 's 
get  to  the  top  of  it.'  But  upon  the  whole,  he  was 
very  much  pleased.  He  said,  '  This  is  one  of  the 
places  I  do  not  regret  having  come  to  see.   It  is  a  very 


/ET.72]     LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  263 

stately  place,  indeed ;  in  the  house  magnificence  is 
not  sacrificed  to  convenience^  nor  convenience  to 
magnificence.  The  library  is  very  splendid ;  the 
dignity  of  the  rooms  is  very  great ;  and  the  quantity 
of  pictures  is  beyond  expectation,  beyond  hope. ' 

It  happened,  without  any  previous  concert,  that  we 
visited  the  seat  of  Lord  Bute  upon  the  King's  birth- 
day ;  we  dined  and  drank  his  Majesty's  health  at  an 
inn  in  the  village  of  Luton. 

In  the  evening  I  put  him  in  mind  of  his  promise  to 
favour  me  with  a  copy  of  his  celebrated  Letter  to  the 
Earlof  Chesterfield,  and  he  was  at  last  pleased  to 
comply  with  this  earnest  request,  by  dictating  it  to 
me  from  his  memory ;  for  he  believed  that  he  himself 
had  no  copy.  There  was  an  animated  glow  in  his 
countenance  while  he  thus  recalled  his  high-minded 
indignation. 

He  laughed  [heartily  at  a  ludicrous  action  in  the 
Court  of  Session  in  which  I  was  counsel.  The  Society 
of  Procurators,  or  Attorneys,  entitled  to  practise  in 
the  inferior  courts  at  Edinburgh,  had  obtained  a  royal 
charter  in  which  they  had  taken  care  to  have  their 
ancient  designation  of  Procurators  changed  into  that 
of  Solicitors,  from  a  notion,  as  they  supposed,  that  it 
was  more  genteel ;  and  this  new  title  they  displayed  by 
public  advertisement  for  a  General  Meeting  at  their 
Hall. 

It  has  been  said  that  the  Scottish  nation  is  not 
distinguished  for  humour ;  and,  indeed,  what  happened 
on  this  occasion  may  in  some  degree  justify  the  re- 
mark ;  for  although  this  society  had  contrived  to  make 
themselves  a  very  prominent  object  for  the  ridicule  of 
such  as  might  stoop  to  it,  the  only  joke  to  which  it 


264  LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON        [1781 

gave  rise,  was  the  following  paragraph  sent  to  the 
newspaper  called  the  Caledonian  Mercury  : 

'  A  correspondent  informs  us  that  the  Worshipful  Society 
of  Chaldeans,  Codies,  or  Rv/nning  Stationers  of  this  city  are 
resolved,  in  imitation,  and  encouraged  by  the  singular  success 
of  their  brethren,  of  an  equally  respectable  Society,  to  apply 
for  a  Charter  of  their  Privileges,  particularly  of  the  sole 
privilege  of  procuring,  in  the  most  extensive  sense  of  the 
word,  exclusive  of  chairmen,  porters,  penny-post  men,  and 
other  inferior  ranks;  their  brethren  the  R — y — l  S — i — bs, 
alias  P — c — rs,  before  the  Inferior  Courts  of  this  City,  always 
excepted. 

'  Should  the  Worshipful  Society  be  successful,  they  are 
further  resolved  not  to  be  puffed  up  thereby,  but  to  demean 
themselves  with  more  equanimity  and  decency  than  their 
R — y — I,  learned,  and  very  modest  brethren  above-mentioned 
have  done,  upon  their  late  dignification  and  exaltation.' 

A  majority  of  the  members  of  the  society  prose- 
cuted Mr.  Robertson^  the  publisher  of  the  paper,  for 
damages ;  and  the  first  judgment  of  the  whole  court 
very  wisely  dismissed  the  action  :  Solventur  risu  tabtUce, 
tu  missus  abibis.  But  a  new  trial  or  review  was 
granted  upon  a  petition,  according  to  the  forms  in 
Scotland.  This  petition  I  was  engaged  to  answer, 
and  Dr.  Johnson,  with  great  alacrity,  furnished  me 
this  evening  with  what  follows  : 

•All  injiuy  is  either  of  the  person,  the  fortune,  or  the 
fame.  Now  it  is  a  certain  thing,  it  is  proverbially  known,  that 
a  jest  breaks  no  bones.  They  never  had  gained  half-a-crown 
less  in  the  whole  profession  since  this  mischievous  paragraph 
has  appeared;  and,  as  to  their  reputation.  What  is  their 
reputation  but  an  instrument  of  getting  money?  If,  there- 
fore, they  have  lost  no  money,  the  question  upon  reputation 
may  be  answered  by  a  very  old  position, — De  minimis  non 
curat  Prcetor. 


JET.  72]    LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  265 

'  Whether  there  was  or  was  not  an  animus  injuricmdi,  is 
not  worth  inqvdring,  if  no  injuria  can  be  proved.  But  the 
truth  is,  there  was  no  animus  injuriandi.  It  was  only  an 
animus  ir^itandi,^  which  happening  to  be  exercised  upon  a 
genus  irritdbile  produced  unexpected  violence  of  resentment. 
Their  irritability  arose  only  from  an  opinion  of  their  own  im- 
portance, and  their  delight  in  their  new  exaltation.  "What 
might  have  been  borne  by  a  Procit/rator  could  not  be  borne 
by  a  Solicitor.  Your  Lordships  weU  know  that  honores 
muta/nt  mxyres.  Titles  and  dignities  play  strongly  on  the 
fancy.  As  a  madman  is  apt  to  think  himself  grown  suddenly 
great,  so  he  that  grows  suddenly  great  is  apt  to  borrow  a  little 
from  the  madman.  To  co-operate  with  their  resentment 
would  be  to  promote  their  frenzy:  nor  is  it  possible  to 
guess  to  what  they  might  proceed,  if  to  the  new  title  of 
Solicitor  should  be  added  the  elation  of  victory  and  triimiph. 

'  We  consider  your  Lordships  as  the  protectors  of  our  rights, 
and  the  guardians  of  our  virtues ;  but  believe  it  not  included 
in  your  high  office  that  you  should  flatter  our  vices,  or  solace 
our  vanity ;  and,  as  vanity  only  dictates  this  prosecution,  it 
is  humbly  hoped  your  Lordships  will  dismiss  it. 

'If  every  attempt,  however  light  or  ludicrous,  to  lessen 
another's  reputation  is  to  be  pimished  by  a  judicial  sentence, 
what  pimishment  can  be  sufficiently  severe  for  him  who 
attempts  to  diminish  the  reputation  of  the  Supreme  Court 
of  Justice,  by  reclaiming  upon  a  cause  already  determined, 
without  any  change  in  the  state  of  the  question  ?  Does  it  not 
imply  hopes  that  the  judges  will  change  their  opinion  ?  Is 
not  uncertainty  and  inconstancy  in  the  highest  degree  dis- 
reputable to  a  Court  ?  Does  it  not  suppose  that  the  former 
judgment  was  temerarious  or  negligent  ?  Does  it  not  lessen 
the  confidence  of  the  public  ?  Will  it  not  be  said  that  jus  est 
aut  incognitu/m,  aut  vagv/m  ?  and  will  not  the  consequence  be 
drawn  misera  est  servitus  ?  Will  not  the  rules  of  action  be 
obscure  ?  Will  not  he  who  knows  himself  wrong  to-day  hope 
that  the  Courts  of  Justice  will  think  him  right  to-morrow? 
Surely,  my  Lords,  these  are  attempts  of  dangerous  tendency, 
which  the  Solicitors,  as  men  versed  in  the  law,  should  have 

1  Mr.  Robertson  altered  this  word  to  jocatidi,  he  having  found  in 
Blackstone  that  to  irritate  is  actionable. 


266         LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1781 

foreseen  and  avoided.  It  was  natural  for  an  ignorant  printer 
to  appeal  from  the  Lord  Ordinary;  but  from  lawyers,  the 
descendants  of  lawyers,  who  have  practised  for  three  hundred 
years,  and  have  now  raised  themselves  to  a  higher  denomina 
tion,  it  might  be  expected  that  they  should  know  the  reverence 
due  to  a  judicial  determination ;  and  having  been  once  dis- 
missed should  sit  down  in  silence.' 


I  am  ashamed  to  mention,  that  the  court,  by  a 
plurality  of  voices,  without  having  a  single  additional 
circumstance  before  them,  reversed  their  own  judg- 
ment, made  a  serious  matter  of  this  dull  and  foolish 
joke,  and  adjudged  Mr.  Robertson  to  pay  to  the 
society  five  pounds  (sterling  money)  and  costs  of 
suit.  The  decision  will  seem  strange  to  English 
lawyers. 

On  Tuesday,  June  6,  Johnson  was  to  return  to 
London.  He  was  very  pleasant  at  breakfast ;  I  men- 
tioned a  friend  of  mine  having  resolved  never  to  marry 
a  pretty  woman.  Johnson  :  '  Sir,  it  is  a  very  foolish 
resolution  to  resolve  not  to  marry  a  pretty  woman. 
Beauty  is  of  itself  very  estimable.  No,  sir,  I  would 
prefer  a  pretty  woman,  unless  there  are  objections 
to  her.  A  pretty  woman  may  be  foolish ;  a  pretty 
woman  may  be  wicked  ;  a  pretty  woman  may  not  like 
me.  But  there  is  no  such  danger  in  marrying  a  pretty 
woman  as  is  apprehended  ;  she  will  not  be  persecuted 
if  she  does  not  invite  persecution.  A  pretty  woman, 
if  she  has  a  mind  to  be  wicked,  can  find  a  readier 
way  than  another ;  and  that  is  all.' 

I  accompanied  him  in  Mr.  DiUy's  chaise  to  Shefi^ord, 
where,  talking  of  Lord  Bute's  never  going  to  Scotland, 
he  said,  'As  an  Englishman,  I  should  wish  all  the 
Scotch  gentlemen  should  be  educated  in  England; 


jET.  72]    LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  267 

Scotland  would  become  a  province  ;  they  would  spend 
all  their  rents  in  England.'  This  is  a  subject  of  much 
consequence,  and  much  delicacy.  The  advantage  of 
an  English  education  is  unquestionably  very  great  to 
Scotch  gentlemen  of  talents  and  ambition ;  and  regular 
visits  to  Scotland,  and  perhaps  other  means,  might  be 
effectually  used  to  prevent  them  from  being  totally 
estranged  from  their  native  country,  any  more  than  a 
Cumberland  or  Northumberland  gentleman,  who  has 
been  educated  in  the  south  of  England.  I  own, 
indeed,  that  it  is  no  small  misfortune  for  Scotch 
gentlemen  who  have  neither  talents  nor  ambition,  to 
be  educated  in  England,  where  they  may  be  perhaps 
distinguished  only  by  a  nickname,  lavish  their  fortune 
in  giving  expensive  entertainments  to  those  who 
laugh  at  them,  and  saunter  about  as  mere  idle,  in- 
significant hangers-on  even  upon  the  foolish  great; 
when,  if  they  had  been  judiciously  brought  up  at 
home,  they  might  have  been  comfortable  and  credit- 
able members  of  society. 

At  Shefford  I  had  another  affectionate  parting  from 
my  revered  friend,  who  was  taken  up  by  the  Bedford 
coach  and  carried  to  the  metropolis.  I  went  with 
Messieurs  Dilly  to  see  some  friends  at  Bedford ; 
dined  with  the  oflScers  of  the  militia  of  the  county ; 
and  next  day  proceeded  on  my  journey. 

TO   BENNET   LANOTON,  ESQ. 

'Dbae  Sib, — How  welcome  your  acooont  of  yourself  and 
your  invitation  to  your  new  house  was  to  me  I  need  not 
tell  you,  who  consider  our  friendship  not  only  as  formed  by 
choice,  but  as  matured  by  time.  We  have  been  now  long 
enough  acquainted  to  have  many  images  in  cmnmon,  and 


268  LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1781 

therefore  to  have  a  source  of  conversation  which  neither  the 
learning  nor  the  wit  of  a  new  companion  can  supply. 

'  My  Lives  are  now  published ;  and  if  you  will  tell  me 
whither  I  shall  send  them,  that  they  may  come  to  you,  I  will 
take  care  that  you  shall  not  be  without  them. 

'You  will,  perhaps,  be  glad  to  hear  that  Mrs.  Thrale  is 
disencumbered  of  her  brewhouse ;  and  that  it  seemed  to  the 
purchaser  so  far  from  an  evil  that  he  was  content  to  give  for 
it  a  hundred  and  thirty-five  thousand  poimds.  Is  the  nation 
ruined  ? 

'  Please  to  make  my  respectful  compliments  to  Lady  Rothes, 
and  keep  me  in  the  memory  of  all  the  little  dear  family, 
particularly  Mrs.  Jane. — I  am,  sir,  your  afiEectionate  humble 
servant,  Sam.  Johnson. 

'  Bolt  Cowrt,  June  16,  1781.' 

Johnson's  charity  to  the  poor  was  uniform  and  ex- 
tensive, both  from  inclination  and  principle.  He  not 
only  bestowed  liberally  out  of  his  own  purse,  but 
what  is  more  difficult  as  well  as  rare,  would  beg  from 
others,  when  he  had  proper  objects  in  view.  This  he 
did  judiciously  as  well  as  humanely.  Mr.  Philip 
Metcalfe  tells  me,  that  when  he  has  asked  him  for 
some  money  for  persons  in  distress,  and  Mr.  Metcalfe 
has  offered  what  Johnson  thought  too  much,  he  in- 
sisted on  taking  less,  saying,  '  No,  no,  sir ;  we  must 
not  pamper  them.' 

I  am  indebted  to  Mr.  Malone,  one  of  Sir  Joshua 
Reynolds'  executors,  for  the  following  note,  which 
was  found  among  his  papers  after  his  death,  and  which, 
we  may  presume,  his  unaffected  modesty  prevented 
him  from  communicating  to  me  with  the  other  letters 
from  Dr.  Johnson  with  which  he  was  pleased  to 
fiimish  me  However  slight  in  itself,  as  it  does 
honour  to  that  illustrious  painter,  and  most  amiable 
man,  I  am  happy  to  introduce  it. 


JET.  72]     LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON         26^ 

TO   SIB  JOSHUA  REYNOLDS 

'Dear  Sir, — It  was  not  before  yesterday  that  I  received 
your  splendid  benefaction.  To  a  hand  so  liberal  in  distribut- 
ing I  hope  nobody  will  envy  the  power  of  acquiring. — I  am,. 
dear  sir,  your  obliged  and  most  humble  servant, 

'  Sam.  Johnson. 

*J-twi«23,  178L' 

TO   THOMAS   ASTLE,  ESQ. 

'  Sib, — I  am  ashamed  that  you  have  been  forced  to  call  so- 
often  for  your  books,  but  it  has  been  no  fault  on  either  side. 
They  have  never  been  out  of  my  hands,  nor  have  I  ever  been 
at  home  without  seeing  you ;  for  to  see  a  man  so  skilful  in 
the  antiquities  of  my  country  is  an  opportunity  of  improve- 
ment not  willingly  to  be  missed. 

Your  notes  on  Alfred^  appear  to  me  very  judicious  and 
accurate,  but  they  are  too  few.  Many  things  familiar  to  you 
are  unknown  to  me  and  to  most  others:  and  you  must  not 
think  too  favourably  of  your  readers ;  by  supposing  them 
knowing,  you  will  leave  them  ignorant.  Measure  of  land, 
and  value  of  money,  it  is  of  great  importance  to  state  with 
care.    Had  the  Saxons  any  gold  coin  ? 

'  I  have  much  curiosity  after  the  manners  and  transactions 
of  the  middle  ages,  but  have  wanted  either  diligence  or 
opportimity,  or  both.  You,  sir,  have  great  opportunities,  and 
I  wish  you  both  diligence  and  success. — I  am,  sir,  etc., 

'  Sam.  Johnson. 

'JvZy  17,  1781.' 

The  following  curious  anecdote  I  insert  in  Dr. 
Bumey's  own  words :  '  Dr.  Burney  related  to  Dr. 
Johnson  the  partiality  which  his  writings  had  excited 
in  a  friend  of  Dr.  Burney's,  the  late  Mr.  Bewley,  well 
known  in  Norfolk  by  the  name  of  the  Philosopher  of 


1  The  will  of  King  Alfred,  alluded  to  in  this  letter,  from  the  original 
Saxon  in  the  library  of  Mr.  Astle,  has  been  printed  at  the  expense  of 
the  University  of  Oxford. 


270  LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON        [1781 

Massingham  :  who,  from  the  Ramblers  and  Plan  of  his 
Dictionary,  and  long  before  the  author's  fame  was 
established  by  the  Dictionary  itself,  or  any  other 
work,  had  conceived  such  a  reverence  for  him,  that 
he  earnestly  begged  Dr.  Burney  to  give  him  the  cover 
of  his  first  letter  he  had  received  from  him,  as  a  relic 
of  so  estimable  a  writer.  This  was  in  1755.  In  1760, 
when  Dr.  Burney  visited  Dr.  Johnson  at  the  Temple 
in  London,  where  he  had  then  chambers,  he  happened 
to  arrive  there  before  he  was  up ;  and  being  shown 
into  the  room  where  he  was  to  breakfast,  finding  him- 
self alone,  he  examined  the  contents  of  the  apartment, 
to  try  whether  he  could  undiscovered  steal  anything 
to  send  to  his  friend  Bewley,  as  another  relic  of  the 
admirable  Dr.  Johnson.  But  finding  nothing  better 
to  his  purpose,  he  cut  some  bristles  off  his  hearth- 
broom,  and  enclosed  them  in  a  letter  to  his  country 
enthusiast,  who  received  them  with  due  reverence. 
The  Doctor  was  so  sensible  of  the  honour  done  him 
by  a  man  of  genius  and  science,  to  whom  he  was  an 
utter  stranger,  that  he  said  to  Dr.  Burney,  ''Sir, 
there  is  no  man  possessed  of  the  smallest  portion  of 
modesty,  but  must  be  flattered  with  the  admiration  of 
such  a  man.  I  '11  give  him  a  set  of  my  Lives,  if  he 
will  do  me  the  honour  to  accept  of  them."  In  this  he 
kept  his  word;  and  Dr.  Burney  had  not  only  the 
pleasure  of  gratifying  his  friend  with  a  present  more 
worthy  of  his  acceptance  than  the  segment  from  the 
hearth-broom,  but  soon  after  introducing  him  to  Dr. 
Johnson  himself  in  Bolt  Court,  with  whom  he  had  the 
satisfaction  of  conversing  a  considerable  time,  not  a 
fortnight  before  his  death ;  which  happened  in  St. 
Martin's  Street,  during  his  visit  to  Dr.  Burney,  in  the 


iET.  72]     LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON  271 

house  where  the  great  Sir  Isaac  Newton  had  lived  and 
died  before.' 

In  one  of  his  little  memorandum-books  is  the  fol- 
lowing minute : 

'August  9,  3  P.M.,  setat.  72,  in  the  summer-house  at 
Streatham. 

'  After  imiumerable  resolutions  formed  and  neglected,  I  have 
retired  hither,  to  plan  a  life  of  greater  diligence,  in  hope  that 
I  may  yet  be  useful,  and  be  daily  better  prepared  to  appear 
before  my  Creator  and  my  Judge,  from  whose  infinite  mercy 
I  humbly  call  for  assistance  and  support. 

'  My  purpose  is, 

'  To  pass  eight  hours  every  day  in  some  serious  employment. 

'  Having  prayed,  I  purpose  to  employ  the  next  six  weeks 
upon  the  Italian  language  for  my  settled  study.' 

How  venerably  pious  does  he  appear  in  these 
moments  of  solitude,  and  how  spirited  are  his  re- 
solutions for  the  improvement  of  his  mind^  even  in 
elegant  literature,  at  a  very  advanced  period  of  life, 
and  when  afflicted  with  many  complaints. 

In  autumn  he  went  to  Oxford,  Birmingham,  Lich- 
field, and  Ashbourne,  for  which  very  good  reasons 
might  be  given  in  the  conjectural  yet  positive  manner 
of  writers,  who  are  proud  to  account  for  every  event 
which  they  relate.  He  himself,  however,  says,  '  The 
motives  of  my  journey  I  hardly  know ;  I  omitted  it 
last  year,  and  am  not  willing  to  miss  it  again. '  ^  But 
some  good  considerations  arise,  amongst  which  is  the 
kindly  recollection  of  Mr.  Hector,  surgeon  of  Bir- 
mingham. *  Hector  is  likewise  an  old  friend,  the  only 
companion  of  my  childhood  that  passed  through  the 
school  with  me.     We  have  always  loved  one  another ; 

1  Prayers  and  Meditations,  p.  zot. 


272  LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON        [1782 

perhaps  we  may  be  made  better  by  some  serious 
conversation^  of  which  however  I  have  no  distant 
hope.' 

He  says  too^  '  At  Lichfield,  my  native  place,  I  hope 
to  show  a  good  example  by  frequent  attendance  on 
public  worship.' 

My  correspondence  with  him  during  the  rest  of  this 
year  was,  I  know  not  why,  very  scanty,  and  all  on  my 
side.  I  wrote  him  one  letter  to  introduce  Mr.  Sinclair 
(now  Sir  John),  the  member  for  Caithness,  to  his  ac- 
quaintance ;  and  informed  him  in  another,  that  my 
wife  had  again  been  affected  with  alarming  symptoms 
of  illness. 

In  1782  his  complaints  increased,  and  the  history 
of  his  life  this  year  is  little  more  than  a  mournful 
recital  of  the  variations  of  his  illness,  in  the  midst  of 
which,  however,  it  will  appear  from  his  letters,  that 
the  powers  of  his  mind  were  in  no  degree  impaired. 

JAMES   BOSWELIi,  ESQ. 

•Deab  Sir, — I  sit  down  to  answer  your  letter  on  the  same 
day  in  which  I  received  it,  and  am  pleased  that  my  first  letter 
of  the  year  is  to  you.  No  man  ought  to  be  at  ease  while  he 
knows  himself  in  the  wrong ;  and  I  have  not  satisfied  myself 
with  my  long  silence.  The  letter  relating  to  Mr.  Sinclair, 
however,  was,  I  believe,  never  brought. 

'My  health  has  been  tottering  this  last  year:  and  I  can 
give  no  very  laudable  account  of  my  time.  I  am  always 
hoping  to  do  better  than  I  have  ever  hitherto  done. 

'My  journey  to  Ashbourne  and  Staffordshire  was  not 
pleasant ;  for  what  enjoyment  has  a  sick  man  visiting  the 
sick  ?— Shall  we  ever  have  another  frolic  like  our  journey  to 
the  Hebrides  ? 

'I  hope  that  dear  Mrs.  Bos  well  will  surmount  her  com- 
plaints; in  losing  her  you  will  lose  your  anchor,   and  be 


JET.  73]     LIFE    OF  DR.    JOHNSON         273 

tossed,  without  stability,  by  the  waves  of  life.^    I  wish  both 
her  and  you  very  many  years,  and  very  happy. 

'  For  some  months  past  I  have  been  so  withdrawn  from  the 
world  that  I  can  send  you  nothing  particular.  All  your 
friends,  however,  are  well,  and  will  be  glad  of  your  return 
to  London. — I  am,  dear  sir,  yours  most  affectionately, 

'  Sam.  Johnson. 

'  Janua/ry  5,  1782.' 

At  a  time  when  he  was  less  ahle  than  he  had  once 
been  to  sustain  a  shock,  he  was  suddenly  deprived  of 
Mr.  Levett,  which  event  he  thus  communicated  to  Dr. 
Lawrence : 

'  Sir, — Our  old  friend  Mr.  Levett,  who  was  last  night 
eminently  cheerful,  died  this  morning.  The  man  who  lay 
in  the  same  room,  hearing  an  uncommon  noise,  got  up  and 
tried  to  make  him  speak,  but  without  effect.  He  then  called 
Mr.  Holder,  the  apothecary,  who,  though  when  he  came  he 
thought  him  dead,  opened  a  vein,  but  could  draw  no  blood. 
So  has  ended  the  long  life  of  a  very  useful  and  very  blameless 
man. — I  am,  sir,  your  most  humble  servant, 

'Sam.  Johnson. 

'  January  17,  1782.' 

In  one  of  his  memorandum-books  in  my  possession 
is  the  following  entry  : 

'  January  20,  Su/nday.  Robert  Levett  was  buried  in  the 
churchyard  of  Bridewell,  between  one  and  two  in  the  after- 
noon. He  died  on  Thursday  17,  about  seven  in  the  morning, 
by  an  instantaneous  death.  He  was  an  old  and  faithful 
friend;  I  have  known  him  from  about  '46.  Commendavi. 
May  God  have  mercy  on  him.    May  he  have  mercy  on  me.' 

Such  was  Johnson's  affectionate  regard  for  Levett ' 


1  The  proof  of  this  has  been  proved  by  sad  experience.     [Mrs. 
Boswell  died  June  4,  1789.— M.] 

2  See  an  account  of  him  in  the  Gentleman's  Magazine,  Feb.  1783. 


274  LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON        [1782 

that  he  honoured    his  memory  with  the  following 
pathetic  verses : 

'  Condemn'd  to  Hope's  delusive  mine, 

As  on  we  toil  from  day  to  day, 
By  sudden  blast  or  slow  decline 
Our  social  comforts  drop  away. 

Well  tried  through  many  a  varying  year. 

See  Levett  to  the  grave  descend ; 
Officious,  innocent,  sincere. 

Of  every  friendless  name  the  friend. 

Yet  still  he  fills  affection's  eye. 
Obscurely  wise,  and  coarsely  kind. 

Nor,  letter'd  arrogance,^  deny 
Thy  praise  to  merit  unrefined. 

When  fainting  Nature  call'd  for  aid. 
And  hoVring  Death  prepared  the  blow, 

His  vigorous  remedy  display'd 
The  power  of  art  without  the  show. 

In  Misery's  darkest  caverns  known, 

His  ready  help  was  ever  nigh. 
Where  hopeless  Anguish  pour'd  his  groan, 

And  lonely  Want  retired  to  die." 

No  summons  mock'd  by  chill  delay. 
No  petty  gains  disdain'd  by  pride  ; 

The  modest  wants  of  every  day 
The  toil  of  every  day  supplied. 

His  virtues  walk'd  their  narrow  round. 
Nor  made  a  pause,  nor  left  a  void ; 

And  sure  the  eternal  Master  found 
His  single  talent  well  employ'd. 


1  In  both  editions  of  Sir  John  Hawkins's  Life  of  Dr.  Johnson, 
'letter'd  ignorance'  is  printed. 
■^  Johnson  repeated  this  line  to  me  thus : 

'  And  Labour  steals  an  hour  to  die.' 

But  he  afterwards  altered  it  to  the  present  reading. 


iET.  73]    LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON         275 

The  busy  day,  the  peaceful  night, 

Unf  elt,  uncounted,  glided  by ; 
His  frame  was  firm,  his  powers  were  bright. 

Though  now  his  eightieth  year  was  nigh. 

Then,  with  no  throbs  of  fiery  pain. 

No  cold  gradations  of  decay. 
Death  broke  at  once  the  vital  chain. 

And  freed  his  soul  the  nearest  way.' 

In  one  of  Johnson's  registers  of  this  year,  there 
occurs  the  following  curious  passage  :  '  Jan.  20.  The 
Ministry  is  dissolved.  I  prayed  with  Francis,  and 
gave  thanks.'  ^  It  has  been  the  subject  of  discussion, 
whether  there  are  two  distinct  particulars  mentioned 
here?  or  that  we  are  to  understand  the  giving  of 
thanks  to  be  in  consequence  of  the  dissolution  of  the 
Ministry .''  In  support  of  the  last  of  these  conjectures 
may  be  urged  his  mean  opinion  of  that  Ministry, 
which  has  frequently  appeared  in  the  course  of  this 
work ;  and  it  is  strongly  confirmed  by  what  he  said 
on  the  subject  to  Mr.  Seward :  *  I  am  glad  the 
Ministry  is  removed.  Such  a  bunch  of  imbecility 
never  disgraced  a  country.  If  they  sent  a  messenger 
into  the  city  to  take  up  a  printer,  the  messenger  was 
taken  up  instead  of  the  printer,  and  committed  by  the 
sitting  alderman.  If  they  sent  one  army  to  the  relief 
of  another,  the  first  army  was  defeated  and  taken 
before  the  second  arrived.  I  will  not  say  that  what 
they  did  was  always  wrong ;  but  it  was  always  done 
at  a  wrong  time.' 

TO  MRS.  STRAHAN 
'  Deab  Madam, — Mrs.  Williams  showed  me  your  kind  letter. 
This  little  habitation  is  now  but  a  melancholy  place,  clouded 

1  Prayers  and  Meditations,  p.  209. 


276         LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1782 

■with  the  gloom  of  disease  and  death.  Of  the  four  inmates, 
one  has  been  suddenly  snatched  away:  two  are  oppressed 
by  very  afflictive  and  dangerous  ilhiess ;  and  I  tried  yesterday 
to  gain  some  relief  by  a  third  bleeding,  from  a  disorder  which 
has  for  some  time  distressed  me,  and  I  think  myself  to-day 
much  better. 

'I  am  glad,  dear  madam,  to  hear  that  you  are  so  far 
recovered  as  to  go  to  Bath.  Let  me  once  more  entreat  you 
to  stay  tin  your  health  is  not  only  obtained  but  confirmed. 
Your  fortune  is  such  as  that  no  moderate  expense  deserves 
your  care ;  and  you  have  a  husband,  who,  I  believe,  does  not 
regard  it.  Stay,  therefore,  till  you  are  quite  well.  I  am, 
for  my  part,  very  much  deserted;  but  complaint  is  useless. 
I  hope  God  will  bless  you,  and  I  desire  you  to  form  the  same 
wish  for  me. — I  am,  dear  madam,  your  most  humble  servant, 

'Sam.  Johnson. 

'February  4,  1782.' 

TO   EDHOND    HALONE^  ESQ. 

'Sib, — I  have  for  many  weeks  been  so  much  out  of  order 
that  I  have  gone  out  only  in  a  coach  to  Mrs.  Thrale's,  where 
I  can  use  all  the  freedom  that  sickness  requires.  Do  not, 
therefore,  take  it  amiss  that  I  am  not  with  you  and  Dr. 
Farmer.  I  hope  hereafter  to  see  you  often. — I  am,  sir,  your 
most  humble  servant,  Sam.  Johnson. 

'JFW>.  27,  1782.' 

TO    THE   SAME 

'Dear  Sib, — I  hope  I  grow  better,  and  shall  soon  be  able 
to  enjoy  the  kindness  of  my  friends.  I  think  this  wild 
adherence   to    Chatterton  ^    more    unaccountable    than    the 


1  [This  note  was  in  answer  to  one  which  accompanied  one  of  the 
earliest  pamphlets  on  the  subject  of  Chatterton's  forgery,  entitled 
Cursory  Observations  on  the  Poems  attributed  to  Thomas  Rowley,  etc. 
Mr.  Thomas  Warton's  very  able  Inquiry  appeared  about  three  months 
afterwards :  and  Mr.  Tyrwhitt's  admirable  Vindication  of  his  Appendix 
in  the  summer  of  the  same  year  left  the  believers  in  his  daring  im- 
posture nothing  but  '  the  resolution  to  say  again  what  had  been  said 
before.'  Daring,  however,  as  this  fiction  was,  and  wild  as  was  the 
adherence  to  Chatterton,  both  were  greatly  exceeded  in  1795  and  the 
following  year,  by  a  still  more  audacious  imposture,  and  the  pertinacity 
of  one  of  Its  adherents,  who  has  immortalised  his  name  by  publishing 


>ET.  73]    LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON         277 

obstinate  defence  of  Ossian.  In  Ossian  there  is  a  national 
pride,  which  may  be  forgiven,  though  it  cannot  be  applauded. 
In  Chatterton  there  is  nothing  but  the  resolution  to  say  again 
what  has  once  been  said. — I  am,  sir,  your  humble  servant, 

'Sam.  Johnson. 
'March  2, 1782.' 

These  short  letters  show  the  regard  which  Dr. 
Johnson  entertained  for  Mr.  Malone,  who  the  more  he 
is  known  is  the  more  highly  valued.  It  is  much  to  be 
regretted  that  Johnson  was  prevented  from  sharing 
the  elegant  hospitality  of  that  gentleman's  table,  at 
which  he  would  in  every  respect  have  been  fully 
gratified.  Mr.  Malone,  who  has  so  ably  succeeded 
him  as  an  editor  of  Shakespeare,  has,  in  his  Preface, 
done  great  and  just  honour  to  Johnson's  memory. 

TO   MRS.   LUCY   PORTER,  IN   LICHFIELD 

*DxAR  Madam, — I  went  away  from  Lichfield  ill,  and  have 
had  a  troublesome  time  with  my  breath ;  for  some  weeks  I 
have  been  disordered  by  a  cold,  of  which  I  could  not  get  the 
violence  abated  till  I  had  been  let  blood  three  times.  I  have 
not,  however,  been  so  bad  but  that  I  could  have  written,  and 
am  sorry  that  I  neglected  it. 

'  My  dwelling  is  but  melancholy ;  both  Williams  and 
Desmoulins  and  myself  are  very  sickly :  Frank  is  not  well ; 
and  poor  Levett  died  in  his  bed  the  other  day  by  a  sudden 
stroke ;  I  suppose  not  one  minute  passed  between  health  and 
death  ;  so  uncertain  are  human  things. 

'  Such  is  the  appearance  of  the  world  about  me,  I  hope 
your  scenes  are  more  cheerful.  But  whatever  befalls  us, 
though  it  is  wise  to  be  serious,  it  is  useless  and  foolish,  and 
perhaps  sinful,  to  be  gloomy.  Let  us,  therefore,  keep  our- 
selves as  easy  as  we  can ;  though  the  loss  of  friends  will  be 


a  bulky  volume,  of  which  the  direct  and  manifest  object  was  to  prove 
the  authenticity  of  certain  papers  attributed  to  Shakespeare,  after 
the  fabricator  of  the  spurious  trash  had  publicly  acknowledged  the 
imposture  1 — M.] 


278  LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1782 

felt,  and  poor  Levett  had  been  a  faithful  adherent  for  thirty 
3' ears. 

'Forgive  me,  my  dear  love,  the  omission  of  writing;  I 
hope  to  mend  that  and  my  other  faults.  Let  me  have  your 
prayers. 

'  Make  my  compliments  to  Mrs.  Cobb  and  Miss  Adey  and 
Mr.  Pearson,  and  the  whole  company  of  my  friends. — I  am, 
my  dear,  your  most  humble  servant,  Sam.  Johnson. 

'London,  March  2,  1782.' 


TO   MRS.    LUCY    PORTER 

'  Dear  Madam,  — My  last  was  but  a  dull  letter,  and  I  know 
not  that  this  will  be  much  more  cheerful ;  I  am,  however, 
willing  to  write,  because  you  are  desirous  to  hear  from  me. 

'  My  disorder  has  now  begun  its  ninth  week,  for  it  is  not 
yet  over.  I  was  last  Thursday  blooded  for  the  fourth  time, 
and  have  since  found  myself  much  relieved,  but  I  am  very 
tender,  and  easUy  hurt ;  so  that  since  we  parted  I  have  had 
but  little  comfort,  but  I  hope  that  the  spring  will  recover  me ; 
and  that  in  the  summer  I  shall  see  Lichfield  again,  for  I  will 
not  delay  my  visit  another  year  to  the  end  of  autumn. 

'  I  have,  by  advertising,  found  poor  Mr.  Levett's  brothers 
in  Yorkshire,  who  will  take  the  little  he  has  left,  it  is  but 
little,  yet  it  will  be  welcome,  for  I  believe  they  are  of  very 
low  condition. 

'  To  be  sick,  and  to  see  nothing  but  sickness  and  death,  is 
but  a  gloomy  state ;  but  I  hope  better  times,  even  in  this 
world,  will  come,  and  whatever  this  world  may  withhold  or 
give,  we  shall  be  happy  in  a  better  state.  Pray  for  me,  my 
dear  Lucy. 

'  Make  my  compliments  to  Mrs.  Cobb  and  Miss  Adey,  and 
my  old  friend  Hetty  Bailey,  and  to  all  the  Lichfield  ladies. 
— I  am,  dear  madam,  yours  affectionately, 

'  Sam.  JoHNsoir. 

'Bolt  CouH,  Fleet  Street, 
'March  19,  1782.' 

On  the  day  on  which  this  letter  was  written,  he 
thus  feelingly   mentions   his  respected    friend,   and 


JET.  73]    LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  279 

physician.  Dr.  Lawrence :  '  Poor  Lawrence  has  almost 
lost  the  sense  of  hearing;  and  I  have  lost  the  con- 
versation of  a  learned,  intelligent,  and  communicative 
companion,  and  a  friend  whom  long  familiarity  has 
much  endeared.  Lawrence  is  one  of  the  best  men 
whom  I  have  known.  Nostrum  omnium  miserere 
Deus.' 

It  was  Dr.  Johnson's  custom  when  he  wrote  to  Dr. 
Lawrence  concerning  his  own  health,  to  use  the  Latin 
ianguage.  I  have  been  favoured  by  Miss  Lawrence 
with  one  of  these  letters  as  a  specimen  : 

T.  LAWBENcio,  Medico,  S. 

'Novum  frigus,  nova  tussis,  nova  spirandi  difficuUas,  nova/m 
sanguinis  missionem  sxmdent,  quam  tamen  te  inconsuUo  nolim, 
fieri.  Ad  te  venire  vix  possum,  nee  est  cur  ad  me  venias. 
Licere  vel  non  licere  uno  verba  dicendum  est ;  ccetera  mihi  et 
Holdero^  reliqueris.  Si  per  te  licet,  vmperatwr  nuncio 
Holderwm  ad  jne  deducere. 

'Maiis  Calendis,  1782. 

'  Postquam,  tu  discesseris,  quo  me  vertam,  f ' ' 


1  Mr.  Holder,  in  the  Strand,  Dr.  Johnson's  apothecary. 

2  Soon  after  the  above  letter  Dr.  Lawrence  left  London,  but  not 
before  the  palsy  had  made  so  great  a  progress  as  to  render  him  unable 
to  write  for  himself.  The  following  are  extracts  from  letters  addressed 
by  Dr.  Johnson  to  one  of  his  daughters  : 

'  You  will  easily  believe  with  what  gladness  I  read  that  you  had 
heard  once  again  that  voice  to  which  we  have  all  so  often  delighted  to 
attend.  May  you  often  hear  it.  If  we  had  bis  mind  and  his  tongue 
we  could  spare  the  rest. 

'  I  am  not  vigorous,  but  much  better  than  when  dear  Dr.  Lawrence 
held  my  pulse  the  last  time.  Be  so  kind  as  to  let  me  know,  from  one 
little  interval  to  another,  the  state  of  his  body.  I  am  pleased  that  he 
remembers  me,  and  hope  that  it  never  can  be  possible  for  me  to  forget 
him.     July  22,  1782.' 

'  I  am  much  delighted  even  with  the  small  advances  which  dear  Dr. 
Lawrence  makes  towards  recovery.  If  we  could  have  again  but  his 
mind  and  his  tongue  in  bis  mind,  and  his  right  hand,  we  should  not 
much  lament  the  rest.  I  should  not  despair  of  helping  the  swelled 
band  by  electricity,  if  it  were  frequently  and  diligently  supplied. 

'  Let  me  know  from  time  to  time  whatever  happens ;  and  I  hope  I 


280  LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON        [1782 

TO   CAPTAIN   liANGTON,^  IN    BOCHBSTEB 

'  Deab  Sib, — It  is  now  long  since  we  saw  one  another ;  and, 
whatever  has  been  the  reason,  neither  you  have  written  to 
me  nor  I  to  you.  To  let  friendship  die  away  by  negligence 
and  silence  is  certainly  not  wise.  It  is  voluntarily  to  throw 
away  one  of  the  greatest  comforts  of  this  weary  pilgrimage, 
of  which  when  it  is,  as  it  must  be  taken  finally  away,  he  that 
travels  on  alone  will  wonder  how  his  esteem  could  be  so 
little.  Do  not  forget  me ;  you  see  that  I  do  not  forget  you. 
It  is  pleasing  in  the  silence  of  solit|ide  to  think  that  there  is 
one  at  least,  however  distant,  of  whose  benevolence  there  is 
little  doubt,  and  whom  there  is  yet  hope  of  seeing  again. 

'Of  my  life,  from  the  time  we  parted,  the  history  is 
mournful.  The  spring  of  last  year  deprived  me  of  Thrale,  a 
man  whose  eye  for  fifteen  years  had  scarcely  been  turned 
upon  me  but  with  respect  or  tenderness;  for  such  another 
friend  the  general  course  of  human  things  will  not  suffer  man 
to  hope.  I  passed  the  summer  at  Streatham,  but  there  was 
no  Tlirale ;  and  having  idled  away  the  summer  with  a  weakly 
body  and  neglected  mind,  I  made  a  journey  to  Staffordshire 
on  the  edge  of  winter.  The  season  was  dreary,  I  was  sickly, 
and  found  the  friends  sickly  whom  I  went  to  see.  After  a 
sorrovrful  sojourn  I  returned  to  a  habitation  possessed  for  the 
present  by  two  sick  women,  where  my  dear  old  friend,  Mr. 
Levett,  to  whom,  as  he  used  to  tell  me,  I  owe  your  acquaintance, 
died  a  few  weeks  ago  suddenly  in  his  bed ;  there  passed  not,  I 
believe,  a  minute  between  health  and  death.  At  night,  as  at 
Mrs.  Thrale's,  I  was  musing  in  my  chamber ;  I  thought  with 
uncommon  earnestness  that  however  I  might  alter  my  mode 

need  not  tell  you  how  much  I  am  interested  in  every  change.  Aug. 
26, 1782.' 

'  Though  the  account  with  which  you  favoured  me  in  your  last  letter 
could  not  give  me  the  pleasure  that  I  wished,  yet  I  was  glad  to  receive 
it ;  for  my  affection  to  my  dear  friend  makes  me  desirous  of  knowing 
his  state,  whatever  it  he.  I  beg,  therefore,  that  you  continue  to  let  me 
know,  from  time  to  time,  all  that  you  observe. 

'  Many  fits  of  severe  illness  have,  for  about  three  months  past,  forced 
my  kind  physician  often  upon  my  mind.  I  am  now  better ;  and  hope 
g^titude,  as  well  as  distress,  can  be  a  motive  to  remembrance.  Bolt 
Court,  Fleet  Street,  Feb.  4,  .1783.' 

1  Mr.  Langton  being  at  this  time  on  duty  at  Rochester  he  is  addressed 
by  his  military  title. 


iET.  73]    LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  281 

of  life,  or  whithersoever  I  might  remove,  I  would  endeavour 
to  retain  Levett  about  me  ;  in  the  morning  my  servant  brought 
me  word  that  Levett  was  called  to  another  state,  a  state  for 
which,  I  thiak,  he  was  not  unprepared,  for  he  was  very  useful 
to  the  poor.  How  much  soever  I  valued  him,  I  now  wish 
that  I  had  valued  him  more.^ 

'  I  have  myself  been  ill  more  than  eight  weeks  of  a  disorder 
from  which,  at  the  expense  of  about  fifty  ounces  of  blood,  I 
hope  I  am  now  recovering. 

'You,  dear  sir,  have,  I  hope,  a  more  cheerful  scene;  you 
see  George  fond  of  his  book,  and  the  pretty  misses  airy  and 
lively,  with  my  own  little  Jenny  equal  to  the  best:  and  in 
whatever  can  contribute  to  your  quiet  or  pleasure,  you  have 
Lady  Rothes  ready  to  concur.  May  whatever  you  enjoy  of 
good  be  increased,  and  whatever  you  sufifer  of  evil  be 
diminished. — I  am,  dear  sir,  your  humble  servant, 

'Sam.  Johi?son. 

'  Bolt  Cowrt,  Fleet  Street, 
'  Mcurch  20,  1782.' 

TO   MR.   HECTORj  IN   BIRMINGHAM  ^ 

*  Deab  Sib, — I  hope  I  do  not  very  grossly  flatter  myself  to 
imagine  that  you  and  dear  Mrs.  Careless  will  be  glad  to  hear 
some  account  of  me.  I  performed  the  journey  to  London  with 
very  little  inconvenience,  and  came  safe  to  my  habitation, 
where  I  found  nothing  but  iU  health,  and,  of  consequence, 
very  little  cheerfulness.  I  then  went  to  visit  a  little  way  into 
the  country,  where  I  got  a  complaint  by  a  cold  which  has  himg 
eight  weeks  upon  me,  and  from  which  I  am,  at  the  expense 
of  fifty  ounces  of  blood,  not  yet  free.     I  am  afraid  I  must 


1  Johnson  has  here  expressed  a  sentiment  similar  to  that  contained 
in  one  of  Shenstone's  stanzas,  to  which  in  his  life  of  that  poet,  he  has 
fciven  high  praise : 

'  1  prized  every  hour  that  went  by. 

Beyond  all  that  had  pleased  me  before ; 
But  now  they  are  gone  and  I  sigh, 
And  I  grieve  that  I  prized  them  no  more.' 

J.  BoswELL,  Junior. 

2  A  part  of  this  letter  having  been  torn  off,  I  have,  from  the  evident 
meaning,  supplied  a  few  words  and  half  words  at  the  ends  and  beginoingi 
of  lines. 


282  LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON        [1782 

once  more  owe  my  recovery  to  warm  weather,  which  seems 
to  make  no  advances  towards  us. 

'  Such  is  my  health,  which  will,  I  hope,  soon  grow  better. 
In  other  respects  I  have  no  reason  to  complain.  I  know  not 
that  I  have  written  anything  more  generally  commended  than 
the  Lives  of  the  Poets ;  and  have  found  the  world  willing 
enough  to  caress  me,  if  my  health  had  invited  me  to  be  in 
much  company ;  but  this  season  I  have  been  almost  whoUy 
employed  in  nursing  myself. 

'  When  summer  comes  I  hope  to  see  you  again,  and  will 
not  put  off  my  visit  to  the  end  of  the  year.  I  have  lived  so 
long  in  London  that  I  did  not  remember  the  difference  of 
seasons. 

'  Your  health,  when  I  saw  you,  was  much  improved.  You 
will  be  prudent  enough  not  to  put  it  in  danger.  I  hope,  when 
we  meet  again,  we  shall  congratulate  each  other  upon  fair 
prospects  of  longer  life  ;  though  what  are  the  pleasxires  of 
the  longest  life  when  placed  in  comparison  with  a  happy 
death  ? — I  am,  dear  sir,  yours  most  affectionately, 

'Sam.  Johnson. 

'London,  March  21,  1782.' 


TO   MB.  HECTOR,  IN   BIBMINGHASI 

[  Without  a  date,  hut  supposed  to  he 
about  this  time.} 
'  Dear  Sik, — That  you  and  dear  Mrs.  Careless  should  have 
care  or  curiosity  about  my  health  gives  me  that  pleasure 
which  every  man  feels  from  finding  himself  not  forgotten. 
In  age  we  feel  again  that  love  of  our  native  place  and  our 
early  friends,  which  in  the  bustle  or  amusements  of  middle 
life,  were  overborne  and  suspended.  You  and  I  should  now 
natvirally  cling  to  one  another:  we  have  outlived  most  of 
those  who  could  pretend  to  rival  us  in  each  other's  kindness. 
In  our  walk  through  life  we  have  dropped  our  companions, 
and  are  now  to  pick  up  such  as  chance  may  offer  us,  or  to 
travel  on  alone.  You  indeed  have  a  sister  with  whom  you 
can  divide  the  day :  I  have  no  natural  friend  left ;  but 
Providence  has  been  pleased  to  preserve  me  from  neglect ;  I 
have  not  wanted  such  alleviations  of  life  as  friendship  could 


JE.T.73]     LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  283 

supply.  My  health  has  been,  from  my  twentieth  year,  such 
as  has  seldom  afforded  me  a  single  day  of  ease ;  but  it  is  at 
least  not  worse :  and  I  sometimes  make  myself  believe  that 
it  is  better.  My  disorders  are,  however,  still  sufficiently 
oppressive. 

'I  think  of  seeing  Staffordshire  again  this  autumn,  and 
intend  to  find  my  way  through  Birmingham,  where  I  hope 
to  see  you  and  dear  Mrs.  Careless  well. — I  am,  sir,  your 
affectionate  friend,  Sam.  Johnson.' 

I  wrote  to  him  at  different  dates ;  regretted  that  1 
could  not  come  to  London  this  spring,  but  hoped  we 
should  meet  somewhere  in  the  summer  ;  mentioned 
the  state  of  my  affairs,  and  suggested  hopes  of  some 
preferment ;  informed  him,  that  as  the  Beauties  of 
Johnson  had  been  published  in  London,  some  obscure 
scribbler  had  published  at  Edinburgh,  what  he  called 
the  Deformities  of  Johnson. 

TO   JAMES   BOSWELL,  ESQ. 

'Dear  Sir, — The  pleasure  which  we  used  to  receive  from 
each  other  on  Good  Friday  and  Easter  Day  we  must  be  this 
year  content  to  miss.  Let  us,  however,  pray  for  each  other, 
and  hope  to  see  one  another  yet  from  time  to  time  with 
mutual  delight.  My  disorder  has  been  a  cold,  which  impeded 
the  organs  of  respiration,  and  kept  me  many  weeks  in  a  state 
of  great  uneasiness ;  but  by  repeated  phlebotomy  it  is  now 
relieved ;  and  next  to  the  recovery  of  Mrs.  Boswell,  I  flatter 
myself,  that  you  will  rejoice  at  mine. 

'  What  we  shall  do  in  the  summer  it  is  yet  too  early  to 
consider.  You  want  to  know  what  you  shall  do  now ;  I  do 
not  think  this  time  of  bustle  and  confusion  ^  like  to  produce 
any  advantage  to  you.  Every  man  has  those  to  reward  and 
gratify  who  have  contributed  to  his  advancement.  To  come 
hither  with  such  expectations  at  the  expense  of  borrowed 
money,  which,  I  find,  you  know  not  where  to  borrow,  can 


1  [On  the  preceding  day  the  Ministry  had  been  changed. — M. 


284  LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON        [1782 

hardly  be  considered  prudent.  I  am  sorry  to  find,  what  your 
solicitations  seem  to  imply,  that  you  have  already  gone  the 
whole  length  of  your  credit.  This  is  to  set  the  quiet  of  your 
whole  life  at  hazard.  If  you  anticipate  your  inheritance  you 
can  at  last  inherit  nothing ;  all  that  you  receive  must  pay  for 
the  past.  You  must  get  a  place,  or  pine  in  penury,  with  the 
empty  name  of  a  great  estate.  Poverty,  my  dear  friend,  is 
BO  great  an  evil,  and  pregnant  with  so  much  temptation  and 
so  much  misery,  that  I  cannot  but  earnestly  enjoin  you  to 
avoid  it.  Live  on  what  you  have ;  live,  if  you  can,  on  less  ; 
do  not  borrow  either  for  vanity  or  pleasure ;  the  vanity  will 
end  in  shame,  and  the  pleasure  in  regret :  stay  therefore  at 
home  till  you  have  saved  money  for  your  journey  hither. 

'  The  Beauties  of  Johnson  are  said  to  have  got  money  to 
the  collector ;  if  the  Deformities  have  the  same  success,  I 
shall  be  still  a  more  extensive  benefactor. 

'Make  my  compliments  to  Mrs.  Boswell,  who  is,  I  hope, 
reconciled  to  me ;  and  to  the  young  people,  whom  I  have 
never  offended. 

'  You  never  told  me  the  success  of  your  plea  against  the 
solicitors. — I  am,  dear  sir,  your  most  affectionate 

'  Sam.  Johnson. 

•  London,  Ma/roh  28,  1782.' 

Notwithstanding  his  afflicted  state  of  body  and  mind 
this  year,  the  following  correspondence  affords  a 
proof  not  only  of  his  benevolence  and  conscientious 
readiness  to  relieve  a  good  man  from  error,  but  by 
his  clothing  one  of  the  sentiments  in  his  Rambler  in 
different  language,  not  inferior  to  that  of  the  original, 
shows  his  extraordinary  command  of  clear  and  forcible 
expression. 

A  clergyman  at  Bath  wrote  to  him,  that  in  the 
Morning  Chronicle,  a  passage  in  the  Beauties  oj"  Johnson, 
article  Death,  had  been  pointed  out  as  supposed  by 
some  readers  to  recommend  suicide,  the  words  being, 
*  To  die  is  the  fate  of  man  ;  but  to  die  with  lingering 


VET.  73]    LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  286 

anguish  is  generally  his  folly '  ;  and  respectfully  sug- 
gesting to  him,  that  such  an  erroneous  notion  of  any 
sentence  in  the  writings  of  an  acknowledged  friend  of 
religion  and  virtue,  should  not  pass  uncontradicted. 
Johnson  thus  answered  the  clergyman's  letter  : 

TO    THE   REV.   MR.    ,  AT    BATH 

'Sir, — Being  now  in  the  country  in  a  state  of  recovery,  as 
I  hope,  from  a  very  oppressive  disorder,  I  cannot  neglect  the 
acknowledgment  of  your  Christian  letter.  The  book  called 
the  Beauties  of  Johnson  is  the  production  of  I  know  not  whom ; 
I  never  saw  it  but  by  casual  inspection,  and  considered  myself 
as  utterly  disengaged  from  its  consequences.  Of  the  passage 
you  mention,  I  remember  some  notice  in  some  paper;  but 
knowing  that  it  must  be  misrepresented,  I  thought  of  it  no 
more,  nor  do  I  know  where  to  find  it  in  my  own  books.  I  am 
accustomed  to  think  little  of  newspapers ;  but  an  opinion  so 
weighty  and  serious  as  yours  has  determined  me  to  do  what 
I  should,  without  your  seasonable  admonition,  have  omitted : 
and  I  wiU  direct  my  thought  to  be  shown  in  its  true  state.  ^ 
If  I  could  find  the  passage  I  would  direct  you  to  it.  I  sup- 
pose the  tenor  is  this: — 'Acute  diseases  are  the  immediate 
and  inevitable  strokes  of  Heaven ;  but  of  them  the  pain  is 
short,  and  the  conclusion  speedy ;  chronical  disorders,  by 
which  we  are  suspended  in  tedious  torture  between  life  and 
death,  are  commonly  the  effect  of  our  own  misconduct  and 
intemperance.    To  die,  etc' — This,  sir,  you  see,  is  all  true 


1  What  follows  appeared  in  the  Morning;  Chronicle  of  May  29 
1782. — A  correspondent  having  mentioned,  in  the  Morning  Chronicle 
of  December  12,  the  last  clause  of  the  following  paragraph,  as  seeming 
to  favour  suicide,  we  are  requested  to  print  the  whole  passage,  that 
its  true  meaning  may  appear,  which  is  not  to  recommend  suicide  but 
exercise  : 

'  Exercbe  cannot  secure  us  from  that  dissolution  to  which  we  are 
decreed ;  but  while  the  soul  and  body  continue  united,  it  can  make 
the  association  pleasing,  and  give  probable  hopes  that  they  shall  be 
disjoined  by  an  easy  separation.  It  was  a  principle  among  the  ancients, 
that  acute  diseases  are  from  Heaven,  and  chronical  from  ourselves ; 
the  dart  of  death,  indeed,  falls  from  Heaven,  but  we  poison  it  by  our 
own  misconduct :  to  die  is  the  fate  of  man  ;  but  to  die  with  lingering 
anguish  is  generally  his  folly.' 


286  LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON        [1782 

and  all  blameless.  I  hope  some  time  in  the  nezt  week  to 
have  all  rectified.  My  health  has  been  lately  much  shaken ; 
if  you  favour  me  with  any  answer,  it  will  be  a  comfort  to  me 
to  know  that  I  have  your  prayers. — I  am,  etc., 

'Sam.  Johnson. 
'May  15,  1782.' 

This  letter,  as  might  be  expected,  had  its  full  effect, 
and  the  clergyman  acknowledged  it  in  grateful  and 
pious  terms.  ^ 

The  following  letters  require  no  extracts  from  mine 
to  introduce  them : 

TO   JAMES   B0SWX2J;,  ESQ. 

'Dear  Sib,— The  earnestness  and  tenderness  of  your  letter 
is  such,  that  I  cannot  think  myself  showing  it  more  respect 
than  it  claims  by  sitting  down  to  answer  it  on  the  day  on 
which  I  received  it. 

'  This  year  has  afflicted  me  with  a  very  irksome  and  severe 
disorder.  My  respiration  has  been  much  impeded,  and  much 
blood  has  been  taken  away.  I  am  now  harassed  by  a  catarrhous 
cough,  from  which  my  purpose  is  to  seek  relief  by  change  of 
air  ;  and  I  am,  therefore,  preparing  to  go  to  Oxford. 

'Whether  I  did  right  in  dissuading  you  from  coming  to 
London  this  spring,  I  will  not  determine.  You  have  not  lost 
much  by  missing  my  company ;  I  have  scarcely  been  well  for 
a  single  week.  I  might  have  received  comfort  from  your 
kindness  ;  but  you  would  have  seen  me  afflicted,  and,  perhaps, 
found  me  peevish.  Whatever  might  have  been  your  pleasure 
or  mine,  I  know  not  how  I  covdd  have  honestly  advised  you 
to  come  hither  with  borrowed  money.  Do  not  accustom 
yourself  to  consider  debt  only  as  an  inconvenience ;  you  wiU 
find  it  a  calamity.  Poverty  takes  away  so  many  means  of 
doing  good,  and  produces  so  much  inability  to  resist  evil,  both 
natural  and  moral,  that  it  is  by  all  virtuous  means  to  be 


1  The  correspondence  may  be  seen  at  length  in  the  GentUmati s 
Magazine,  Feb.  1786. 


JET.  73]    LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON         287 

avoided.  Consider  a  man  whose  fortune  is  very  narrow ; 
whatever  be  his  rank  by  birth,  or  whatever  his  reputation  by 
intellectual  excellence,  what  can  he  do  ?  or  what  evil  can  he 
prevent  ?  That  he  cannot  help  the  needy  is  evident ;  he  has 
nothing  to  spare.  But,  perhaps,  his  advice  or  admonition 
may  be  useful.  His  poverty  will  destroy  his  influence :  many 
more  can  find  that  he  is  poor,  than  that  he  is  wise ;  and  few 
will  reverence  the  understanding  that  is  of  so  little  advantage 
to  its  owner.  I  say  nothing  of  the  personal  wretchedness  of 
a  debtor,  which,  however,  has  passed  into  a  proverb.  Of 
riches  it  is  not  necessary  to  write  the  praise.  Let  it,  however, 
be  remembered,  that  he  who  has  money  to  spare,  has  it 
always  in  his  power  to  benefit  others ;  and  of  such  power  a 
good  man  must  always  be  desirous. 

'I  am  pleased  with  your  account  of  Easter.^  "We  shall 
meet,  I  hope,  in  autumn,  both  well  and  both  cheerful ;  and 
part  each  the  better  for  the  other's  company. 

'  Make  my  compliments  to  Mrs.  Boswell,  and  to  the  young 
charmers. — I  am,  etc.,  Sam.  Johhson. 

'London,  June  3,  1782.' 

TO   MB.  PERKINS 

'  Deab  Sib, — I  am  much  pleased  that  you  are  going  a  very 
long  journey,  which  may,  by  proper  conduct,  restore  your 
health  and  prolong  your  life. 

'  Observe  these  rules  : 

'  1.  Turn  all  care  out  of  your  head  as  soon  as  you  mount 
the  chaise. 

'  2.  Do  not  think  about  frugality ;  your  health  is  worth 
more  than  it  can  cost 

'3.  Do  not  continue  any  day's  journey  to  fatigue. 

*  4.  Take  now  and  then  a  day's  rest. 

'  6.  Get  a  smart  sea-sickness  if  you  can. 

'6.  Cast  away  all  anxiety,  and  keep  your  mind  easy. 

'  This  last  direction  is  the  principal :  with  an  unquiet  mind, 
neither  exercise,  nor  diet,  nor  physic,  can  be  of  much  use. 


1  Which  I  celebrated  in  the  Church  of  England  chapel  at  Edinburgh, 
founded  by  Lord  Chief  Baron  Smith,  of  respectable  and  pious  memory. 


288         LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1782 

*  I  wish  you,  dear  sir,  a  prosperous  journey,  and  a  happy 
recovery. — I  am,  dear  sir,  your  moat  affectionate  humble 
servant,  Sam.  Johnson. 

'July28,n8S.' 

TO   JAMES   BOSWEIiL,  ESQ. 

'Dear  Sib, — Being  xmcertain  whether  I  should  have  any 
call  this  autumn  into  the  country,  I  did  not  immediately 
answer  your  kind  letter.  I  have  no  call ;  but  if  you  desire  to 
meet  me  at  Ashbourne,  I  believe  I  can  come  thither ;  if  you 
had  rather  come  to  London,  I  can  stay  at  Streatham :  take 
your  choice. 

'This  year  has  been  very  heavy.  From  the  middle  of 
January  to  the  middle  of  June  I  was  battered  by  one  disorder 
after  another  !  I  am  now  very  much  recovered,  and  hope  stUl 
to  be  better.  What  happiness  it  is  that  Mrs.  Boswell  has 
escaped ! 

'  My  lAves  are  reprinting,  and  I  have  forgotten  the  author 
of  Gray's  character :  ^  write  immediately,  and  it  may  be 
perhaps  yet  inserted. 

'  Of  London  or  Ashbourne  you  have  your  free  choice ;  at 
any  place  I  shall  be  glad  to  see  you. — I  am,  dear  sir,  yours  etc., 

'Sam.  Johnson. 

*  August  2i,  1782.' 

On  the  30th  of  August,  I  informed  him  that  my 
honoured  father  had  died  that  morning ;  a  complaint 
under  which  he  had  long  laboured,  having  suddenly 
come  to  a  crisis,  while  I  was  upon  a  visit  at  the  seat 
of  Sir  Charles  Preston,  from  whence  I  had  hastened 
the  day  before,  upon  receiving  a  letter  by  express. 

TO    JAMES    BOSWELL,    ESQ. 

'Dear  Sib, — I  have  struggled  through  this  year  with  so 
much  infirmity  of  body,  and  such  strong  impressions  of  the 
fragility  of  life,  that  death,  whenever  it  appears,  fills  me  with 

*  The  Reverend  Mr.  Temple,  Vicar  of  St.  Gluvias,  Cornwall. 


Mr.73]    LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON  289 

melancholy;  and  I  cannot  hear  without  emotion  of  the 
removal  of  any  one,  whom  I  have  known,  into  another  state, 

'Your  father's  death  had  every  circumstance  that  could 
enable  you  to  bear  it ;  it  was  at  a  mature  age,  and  it  was 
expected ;  and  as  his  general  life  had  been  pious,  his  thoughts 
had  doubtless  for  many  years  past  been  turned  upon  eternity. 
That  you  did  not  find  him  sensible  must  doubtless  grieve  you ; 
his  disposition  towards  you  was  undoubtedly  that  of  a  kind, 
though  not  of  a  fond  father.  Kindness,  at  least  actual,  is  in 
our  power,  but  fondness  is  not ;  and  if  by  negligence  or  im- 
prudence you  had  extinguished  his  fondness,  he  could  not  at 
will  rekindle  it.  Nothing  then  remained  between  yon  but 
mutual  forgiveness  of  each  other's  faults,  and  mutual  desire 
of  each  other's  happiness. 

'  T  shall  long  to  know  his  final  disposition  of  his  fortune. 

'  You,  dear  sir,  have  now  a  new  station,  and  have  therefore 
new  cares  and  new  employments.  Life,  as  Cowley  seems  to 
say,  ought  to  resemble  a  well-ordered  poem;  of  which  one 
rule  generally  received  is,  that  the  exordium  should  be  simple, 
and  should  promise  little.  Begin  your  new  course  of  life 
with  the  least  show,  and  the  least  expense  possible ;  you  may 
at  pleasure  increase  both,  but  you  cannot  easily  diminish 
them.  Do  not  think  your  estate  your  own,  while  any  man 
can  call  upon  you  for  money  which  you  cannot  pay ;  there- 
fore, begin  with  timorous  parsimony.  Let  it  be  your  first  care 
not  to  be  in  any  man's  debt. 

'When  the  thoughts  are  extended  to  a  future  state,  the 
present  life  seems  hardly  worthy  of  all  those  principles  of 
conduct,  and  maxims  of  prudence,  which  one  generation  of 
men  has  transmitted  to  another;  but  upon  a  closer  view, 
when  it  is  perceived  how  much  evil  is  produced  and  how  much 
good  is  impeded  by  embarrassment  and  distress,  and  how 
little  room  the  expedients  of  poverty  leave  for  the  exercise 
of  virtue,  it  grows  manifest  that  the  boundless  importance  of 
the  next  life  enforces  some  attention  to  the  interest  of  this. 

'  Be  kind  to  the  old  servants,  and  secure  the  kindness  of 
the  agents  and  factors ;  do  not  disgust  them  by  asperity,  or 
unwelcome  gaiety,  or  apparent  suspicion.  From  them  you 
must  learn  the  real  state  of  your  afltairs,  the  characters  of 
your  tenants,  and  the  value  of  your  lands. 


290  LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON        [1782 

'  Make  my  compliments  to  Blrs.  Boswell ;  I  think  her  ex- 
pectations from  air  and  exercise  are  the  best  that  she  can 
form.     I  hope  she  will  live  long  and  happily. 

'  I  forgot  whether  I  told  you  that  Raasay  has  been  here  ; 
we  dined  cheerfully  together.  I  entertained  lately  a  young 
gentleman  from  Corrichatachin. 

'  I  received  your  letters  only  this  morning. — I  am,  dear  sir, 
years,  etc.,  Sam.  Johnson. 

'  London,  Sept.  7,  1782.' 

In  answer  to  my  next  letter,  I  received  one  from 
him,  dissuading  me  from  hastening  to  him  as  I  had 
proposed;  what  is  proper  for  publication  is  the 
following  paragraph,  equally  just  and  tender  : 

'  One  expense,  however,  I  would  not  have  you  to  spare ;  let 
nothing  be  omitted  that  can  preserve  Sirs.  Boswell,  though  it 
should  be  necessary  to  transplant  her  for  a  time  into  a  softer 
climate.  She  is  the  prop  and  stay  of  your  life.  How  much 
must  your  children  suffer  by  losing  her  1 

My  wife  was  now  so  much  convinced  of  his  sincere 
friendship  for  me,  and  regard  for  her,  that,  without 
any  suggestion  on  my  part,  she  wrote  him  a  very 
polite  and  grateful  letter. 

DR.  JOHNSON   TO   MRS.  BOSWELL 

'Deab  Lady, — I  have  not  often  received  so  much  pleasme 
as  from  your  invitation  to  Auchinleck.  The  journey  thither 
and  back  is,  indeed,  too  great  for  the  latter  part  of  the  year  ; 
but  if  my  health  were  fully  recovered,  I  would  suffer  no  little 
heat  and  cold,  nor  a  wet  or  a  rough  road  to  keep  me  from 
you.  I  am,  indeed,  not  without  hope  of  seeing  Auchinleck 
again ;  but  to  make  it  a  pleasant  place,  I  must  see  its  lady 
well,  and  brisk,  and  airy.  For  my  sake,  therefore,  among 
many  greater  reasons,  take  care,  dear  madam,  of  your  health, 
spare  no  expense,  and  want  no  attendance  that  can  procure 
ease,  or  preserve  it.     Be  very  careful  to  keep  your  mind  quiet. 


Mr.73]    LIFE    OF   DR.    JOHNSON         291 

and  do  not  think  it  too  much  to  give  an  account  of  yovir 
recovery  to,  madam,  yours,  etc.,  Sam.  Johnson. 

'London,  Sept.  7,  1782.' 


TO   JAMES   BOSWELL,  ESQ. 

'Deab  Sib, — Having  passed  almost  this  whole  year  in  a 
succession  of  disorders,  I  went  in  October  to  Brighthelmstone, 
whither  I  came  in  a  state  of  so  much  weakness,  that  I  rested 
four  times  in  walking  between  the  inn  and  the  lodging.  By 
physic  and  abstinence  I  grew  better,  and  am  now  reasonably 
easy,  though  at  a  great  distance  from  health.  I  am  afraid, 
however,  that  health  begins,  after  seventy,  and  long  before, 
to  have  a  meaning  difiEerent  from  that  which  it  had  at  thirty. 
But  it  is  culpable  to  murmur  at  the  established  order  of  the 
creation,  as  it  is  vain  to  oppose  it ;  he  that  lives,  must  grow 
old ;  and  he  that  would  rather  grow  old  than  die,  has  God  to 
thank  for  the  infirmities  of  old  age. 

'  At  your  long  silence  I  am  rather  angry.  You  do  not,  since 
now  you  are  the  head  of  your  house,  think  it  worth  your 
while  to  try  whether  you  or  your  friend  can  live  longer  with- 
out writing,  nor  suspect  that  after  so  many  years  of  friend- 
ship, that  when  I  do  not  write  to  you,  I  forget  you.  Put  all 
such  useless  jealousies  out  of  your  head,  and  disdain  to 
regulate  your  own  practice  by  the  practice  of  another,  or  by 
any  other  principle  than  the  desire  of  doing  right. 

'  Your  economy,  I  suppose,  begins  now  to  be  settled ;  your 
expenses  are  adjusted  to  your  revenue,  and  all  your  people  in 
their  proper  places.  Eesolve  not  to  be  poor :  whatever  you 
have,  spend  less.  Poverty  is  a  great  enemy  to  human  happi- 
ness ;  it  certainly  destroys  liberty,  and  it  makes  some  virtues 
impracticable,  and  others  extremely  difficult. 

'  Let  me  know  the  history  of  your  life,  since  your  accession 
to  your  estate.  How  many  houses,  how  many  cows,  how 
much  land  in  your  own  hand,  and  what  bargains  you  make 
with  your  tenants. 

'  Of  my  Lives  of  the  Poets,  they  have  printed  a  new  edition 
in  octavo,  I  hear,  of  three  thousand.  Did  I  give  a  set  to  Lord 
Hailes  ?  If  I  did  not,  I  will  do  it  out  of  these.  What  did 
you  make  of  all  your  copy  ? 


292  LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON        [1782 

*  Mrs.  Thrale  and  the  three  misses  are  now  for  the  winter 
in  Argyll  Street.  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  has  been  out  of 
order,  but  is  well  again ;  and  I  am,  dear  sir,  j'our  affectionate 
humble  servant,  Sam.  Johxson. 

'London,  Dec.  7,  1782.' 


TO   DE.   SAMUEL   JOHNSON 

•  Edinburgh,  Dec.  20,  1782, 
'Deab  Sib, — I  was  made  happy  by   your   kind    letter, 
which  gave  us  tiie  agreeable  hopes  of  seeing  you  in  Scotland 
again. 

'  I  am  much  flattered  by  the  concern  yon  are  pleased  to  take 
in  my  recovery.  I  am  better,  and  hope  to  have  it  in  my 
power  to  convince  you  by  my  attention  of  how  much  con- 
sequence I  esteem  your  health  to  the  world  and  to  myself. 
— I  remain,  sir,  with  grateful  respect,  your  obliged  and 
obedient  servant,  Mabqabet  Boswsix.' 

The  death  of  Mr.  Thrale  had  made  a  very  material 
alteration  with  respect  to  Johnson's  reception  in  that 
family.  The  manly  authority  of  the  husband  no  longer 
curbed  the  lively  exuberance  of  the  lady ;  and  as  her 
vanity  had  been  fully  gratified,  by  having  the  Colossus 
of  Literature  attached  to  her  for  many  years,  she 
gradually  became  less  assiduous  to  please  him. 
Whether  her  attachment  to  him  was  already  divided 
by  another  object,  I  am  unable  to  ascertain  ;  but  it  is 
plain  that  Johnson's  penetration  was  alive  to  her 
neglect  or  forced  attention  ;  for  on  the  6th  of  October 
this  year,  we  find  him  making  a  '  parting  use  of  the 
library'  at  Streatham,  and  pronouncing  a  prayer,^ 
which  he  composed  on  leaving  Mr.  Thrale's  family : 

'Almighty  God,  Father  of  aU  mercy,  help  me  by  thy 
grace,  that  I  may,  with  humble  and  sincere  thankfulness, 


1  Prayers  and  Meditations,  p.  214. 


/ET.  74]     LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  293 

remember  the  comforts  and  conveniences  which  I  have  en- 
joyed at, this  place;  and  that  I  may  resign  them  with  holy 
submission,  equally  trusting  in  thy  protection  when  Thou 
givest,  and  when  Thou  takest  away.  Have  mercy  upon  me, 
O  Lord,  have  mercy  upon  me. 

'  To  thy  fatherly  protection,  O  Lord,  I  commend  this  famUy. 
Bless,  guide,  and  defend  them,  that  they  may  so  pass  through 
this  world,  as  finally  to  enjoy  in  thy  presence  everlasting 
happiness,  for  Jesus  Christ's  sake.    Amen.' 

One  cannot  read  this  prayer,  vrithout  some  emo- 
tions not  very  favourable  to  the  lady  whose  conduct 
occasioned  it. 

In  one  of  his  memorandum-books  I  find,  '  Sunday, 
went  to  church  at  Streatham.  Templo  valediad  cum 
osculo.' 

He  met  Mr.  Philip  Metcalfe  often  at  Sir  Joshua 
Reynolds's,  and  other  places,  and  was  a  good  deal 
with  him  at  Brighthelmstone  this  autumn,  being 
pleased  at  once  with  his  excellent  table  and  animated 
conversation.  Mr.  Metcalfe  showed  him  great  respect, 
and  sent  him  a  note  that  he  might  have  the  use  of  his 
carriage  whenever  he  pleased.  Johnson  (3rd  October, 
1782)  returned  this  polite  answer  : — '  Mr.  Johnson  is 
very  much  obliged  by  the  kind  offer  of  the  carriage, 
but  he  has  no  desire  of  using  Mr.  Metcalfe's  carriage, 
except  when  he  can  have  the  pleasure  of  Mr.  Metcalfe's 
company.'  Mr.  Metcalfe  could  not  but  be  highly 
pleased  that  his  company  was  thus  valued  by  Johnson, 
and  he  frequently  attended  him  in  airings.  They  also 
went  together  to  Chichester,  and  they  visited  Pet- 
worth,  and  Cowdry,  the  venerable  seat  of  the  Lords 
Montacute.^     'Sir  (said  Johnson),  I  should  like  to 

1  [This  venerable  mansion  has  since  been  totally  destroyed  by  fire. — 
M.] 


294  LIFE   OF   DR.    JOHNSON        [1782 

stay  here  four-and-twenty  hours.     We  see  here  how 
our  ancestors  lived- 

That  his  curiosity  was  still  unabated,  appears  from 
two  letters  to  Mr.  John  Nichols,  of  the  10th  and  20th 
of  October  this  year.  In  one  he  says,  '  I  have  looked 
into  your  Anecdotes,  and  you  will  hardly  thank  a 
lover  of  literary  history  for  telling  you,  that  he  has 
been  much  informed  and  gratified.  I  wish  you  would 
add  your  own  discoveries  and  intelligence  to  those 
of  Dr.  Rawlinson,  and  undertake  the  Supplement  to 
Wood.  Think  of  it.'  In  the  other,  'I  wish,  sir, 
you  could  obtain  some  fuller  information  of  Jortin, 
Markland,  and  Thirlby.  They  were  three  contem- 
poraries of  great  eminence.' 

TO   SIR   JOSHUA   REYNOLDS 

'Dear  Sir, — I  heard  yesterday  of  your  late  disorder,  and 
shoald  think  ill  of  myself  if  I  had  heard  of  it  without  alann- 
I  heard  likewise  of  your  recovery,  which  I  sincerely  wish  to 
be  complete  and  permanent.  Your  country  has  been  in 
danger  of  losing  one  of  its  brightest  ornaments,  and  I  of  los- 
ing one  of  my  oldest  and  kindest  friends :  but  I  hope  you 
wiU  still  live  long,  for  the  honour  of  the  nation ;  and  that 
more  enjoyment  of  your  elegance,  your  intelligence,  and  your 
benevolence,  is  still  reserved  for,  dear  sir,  your  most  affec- 
tionate, etc.,  Sam.  Johnsok. 

'  Brighthelmstone,  Nov.  14,  1782.' 

The  Reverend  Mr.  Wilson  having  dedicated  to  him 
his  ArchcBological  Dictionary,  that  mark  of  respect 
was  thus  acknowledged : 

TO    THE    REV.  MR.   WILSON,  CLITHEROE,  LANCASHIRE 

'  Reverend  Sm, — That  I  have  long  omitted  to  return  you 
thanks  for  the  honour  conferred  upon  me  by  your  Dedication, 
I  entreat  you  with  great  earnestness  not  to  consider  as  more 


JET.  74]     LIFE    OF    DR.    JOHNSON  295 

faulty  than  it  is.  A  very  importunate  and  oppressive  disorder 
has  for  some  time  debarred  me  from  the  pleasures,  and  ob- 
structed me  in  the  duties  of  life.  The  esteem  and  kindness 
of  wise  and  good  men  is  one  of  the  last  pleasures  which  I  can 
be  content  to  lose ;  and  gratitude  to  those  from  whom  this 
pleasure  is  received,  is  a  duty  of  which  I  hope  never  to  be 
reproached  with  the  final  neglect.  I  therefore  now  return 
you  thanks  for  the  notice  which  I  have  received  from  you, 
and  which  I  consider  as  giving  to  my  name  not  only  more 
bulk,  but  more  weight ;  not  only  as  extending  its  superficies, 
but  as  increasing  its  value.  Your  book  was  evidently  wanted, 
and  will,  I  hope,  find  its  way  into  the  school,  to  which,  how- 
ever, I  do  not  mean  to  confine  it ;  for  no  man  has  so  much 
skill  in  ancient  rites  and  practices  as  not  to  want  it.  As  I 
suppose  myself  to  owe  part  of  your  kindness  to  my  excellent 
friend.  Dr.  Patten,  he  has  likewise  a  just  claim  to  my  acknow- 
ledgment, which  I  hope  you,  sir,  will  transmit.  There  wiU 
soon  appear  a  new  edition  of  my  Poetical  Biography  ;  if  you 
will  accept  of  a  copy  to  keep  me  in  your  mind,  be  pleased  to 
let  me  know  how  it  may  be  conveniently  conveyed  to  you. 
This  present  is  small,  but  it  is  given  with  good  will  by, 
reverend  sir,  your  most,  etc.,  Sam.  Johnson. 

'December  31,  1782. 


END   OP   VOL.  V 


Prioted  by  T.  and  A.  Constable,  Printers  to  Her  Majesty 
at  the  Edinburgh  University  Press 


.^ 


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